


His Destiny Set

by Aevintyr



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Ragnarok, The Nine Realms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-19 11:10:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 77,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3607947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aevintyr/pseuds/Aevintyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Battle of New York, Tony has bad dreams. Alien armies, broken windows, deserts and … mistletoe? But the more important question is, why does Loki keep turning up in those dreams? And surely the future of the Nine Realms can’t hinge on some old Viking poem?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fanfic starts shortly after The Avengers, but takes into account all subsequent movies up to and including The Winter Soldier (but not Guardians of the Galaxy), plus a nod to Agents of SHIELD. Featuring gratuitous adaptations of Norse mythology to the MCU, especially Völuspá. As for warnings, Norse mythology isn’t exactly a rosy place, nor is the MCU. There’s a more detailed trigger warning list at the end of this chapter - please be aware it contains spoilers. Lastly, I’m not American and that probably shows, so I’m sorry in advance for that.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel. Obviously. The Poetic Edda is quoted in the translation of Henry Bellows.

_I saw for Baldr, the bleeding god,_

_The son of Othin, his destiny set:_

_Famous and fair in the lofty fields,_

_Full grown in strength the mistletoe stood._

Völuspá 32 (trans. Bellows)

 

#

 

It was over. The Battle of New York was won, Battle with a capital B and all that. The Avengers had won.

And yet at night, on a level of Stark Tower that still had intact windows, Tony lay on his bed next to Pepper and couldn’t sleep. After all the fighting and almost dying he’d done during the day, one might think he was weary and tired, but no. Of course not. Had to be the adrenaline. Yes, adrenaline. Not the stars of another galaxy going out of focus and thinking, _this is the last thing that I will ever see and I. Am. Terrified_. Definitely not.

With a sigh, Tony got out of bed in search for scotch. If Loki had destroyed his home bar along with the rest, he’d get down to the SHIELD custody cell where he was being held until the tesseract was realigned for inter-realm travel, and shout at him out of sheer spite. Too bad that couldn’t happen.

Actually, why not. Get to the cell and yell at the guy who’d thrown him out of a window, led an alien invasion to Earth and seemed to be a bastard all around, Thor’s brother or not, adopted or not … Wait, what was he thinking. Going to the cell was an extremely bad idea. Worse than usual. Couldn’t happen.

 

#

 

After a little flying and a lot of arguing with SHIELD and pulling the “I kind of sacrificed myself here” card, Tony stood in front of the cell.

On the monitor, Loki looked a bruised mess, but better than any human would after being turned into the Hulk’s personal playing ball. He was still wearing that ridiculous leather armor of his, but at least the helmet had gone missing. As for the cell, a bunk bed appeared to be the only furniture. Loki was sitting on it. Not asleep either, but bound around his wrists as well as chained to the wall and he couldn’t speak due to a muzzle. Belatedly, it occurred to Tony that he could have brought the drink he’d sort of promised Loki. Wouldn’t have been of any use, though.

Another head-count, then. There was SHIELD outside the door and all over the building. Loki posed no threat whatsoever. Just like on the helicarrier. Which he’d gotten out of, no problem, wrong frame of reference. At least, he’d got one up on Fury, which, Tony had to admit, he’d kind of enjoyed at the time. A warm light for all mankind to share …

During the time Tony had been staring at the screen, Loki hadn’t moved once. He just sat there and breathed. Why was he so relaxed when the justice of Asgard would soon be upon him? Thor had indicated that Odin’s wrath was not to be taken lightly and nope, no argument there? Only one way to find out …

Tony entered the cell. That made Loki move, or at least turn his head towards the intruder, and arch an eyebrow. _Why are you here_ , it asked. Only where’d the emphasis be? _Why_ are you here? Why are _you_ here?

“Not so much of a powerful god now, eh?” Might as well get the obvious petty insults out of the way. Before … whatever. “How does it feel to have your genius invasion plans thwarted by a bunch of mortals? Granted, with the help of the god of thunder, but still, you had a huge army from outer space, should probably have done a bit better there, shouldn’t you? Eh? Oh right, you can’t speak, my bad.”

The muzzle covered the entire lower part of Loki’s face, but that glint in his eyes made Tony certain the bastard was amused. What.

“Anyway, too bad that didn’t work out, better luck next time, only there won’t be a next time, you’ll spend the rest of your ridiculously long lifespan in prison on Asgard and that surely can’t be too pleasant. Can’t say I feel sorry for you, nope, really, I can’t.”

Loki shrugged as if to say, _fair enough_. He looked so calm. Like he had three aces up his sleeve, at least. Or maybe he wasn’t the giving-up type no matter how bleak the outlook. That, at least, Tony could relate to, so it had to be wishful thinking or plain delusion or … something.

There’d been things Tony had meant to say. About New York, about Coulson, about … about the other side of space. He could still see it as he had through his failing HUD, the vastness of another galaxy, of different constellations, of an alien fleet and the persisting feeling that it had all been … wrong. In ways Tony couldn’t even begin to put into words, in ways that chilled his bones as he realized, no, _remembered_ that there were things lurking between the worlds, and they were … coming closer —

Tony shuddered. Where had that come from? He was standing in a cell which he would walk out of and his enemy wouldn’t. He’d won. It was over. Right?

Loki had tilted his head and was looking at him with narrowed eyes.

What had Tony been meaning to say again? Some rambling rant, no doubt. He couldn’t think of a single thing. Except, “It’s not over, is it?”

The amused glint made a return, but underneath it, there was solid ice. Resolve. Tony could almost hear that silky smooth voice whispering, _it’s never over_.

“Well, it’s over for you, anyway.”

 

#

 

The Asgardians left. The Avengers dispersed. Tony couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t bear to look at the shattered glass through which he’d fallen, the Loki-shaped hole in the ground, the post-apocalypse beyond the windows and all those Chitauri corpses, seriously, what was SHIELD doing with those?

Two days after the Battle of New York, Tony locked himself away in his workshop. Pepper had expected it. Bruce had expected it. Tony started building suits again. Suits, plural, three, four, five, quite a lot really, maybe he should stop but he couldn’t.

Thor didn’t come back. Neither did Loki. Tony decided it was for the best. He still couldn’t sleep.

 

#

 

The Tower was rebuilt along with the rest of New York City. Neither would ever be the same again. Tony didn’t care. Avengers Tower had a nicer ring to it, anyway.

Nothing much happened.

Then: the Mandarin. So much for the Malibu mansion.

So much for the arc reactor, too. It felt strange, not having it in his chest anymore. Tony would always be Iron Man, yes, but. But. But he did it for Pepper. Pepper was safe now.

The nightmares went from “every night” to “every other night” to “maybe once a month, okay twice, but I’m fine really.”

Rhodey took the Iron Patriot on a long-term deployment abroad, mopping up after AIM.

The world was safe.

 

#

 

Tony watched the Nine Realms converge on Greenwich, UK.

Thor handled that one before SHIELD could scramble a quinjet to Europe, but it left a sour taste in Tony’s mouth. He read Jane Foster’s paper on the phenomenon. Physics going ballistics, just like that. And SHIELD hadn’t noticed.

 _It’s never over_ , a voice in Tony’s head said. Loki’s voice.

Thor came to tell the Avengers that he had abdicated the throne and would now stay permanently on Midgard in the company of Jane Foster. Well, good for him. If he was happy, who needed the throne of Asgard? Odin could surely sit upon it for a few more years. At least, that’s what Tony assumed would happen. He didn’t ask.

The announcement called for celebration, and no one did parties like Tony Stark.

Amid lavish food and copious amounts of alcohol, Thor let slip another piece of information of no little interest: Loki had died on the Dark World, defending his adoptive brother and Jane.

None of the Avengers could believe it, least of all Barton. The heroic act, that was. They believed the dying bit just fine. Tony wasn’t sure he believed either.

No matter. Thor safely in their midst and no danger to earth. Right. Right?

 

#

 

Tony stood in front of an ash-tree. The image was hazy around the edges. A dream. Which meant that he had actually fallen asleep. That counted for something. It didn’t look like a nightmare, either. No alien army seemed imminent. Nothing was on fire. Yet.

Might as well have a look around. Tony approached the ash, and the lake in front of it. Still peaceful. In fact, suspiciously so … There were three figures in black hoods sitting beneath the ash. At this precise moment, they raised their heads in one simultaneous motion.

The first hooded figure said, with a voice that resonated from everywhere and nowhere, “All hail to thee, Merchant of Death!”

The second added, “Iron Man.”

The third said his name, or rather, spit out the first syllable before descending into a wail, “T _onyyy Starrrrk_.”

Not weird. At all. It beat falling through space.

Tony said, “Yep, that’s me, all of that, or it was, anyway. Alright there weird sisters, this is a foul and fair day indeed, aren’t you at least supposed to give me a glimpse of the future?”

The figures cackled. Exactly like the witches in that awful Macbeth production he’d been forced to sit through in high school. Way to go, subconscious.

The third figure raised its right hand and pointed to something above Tony. Probably a trick, but then again, it was just a dream. He looked up into the branches of the ash-tree and saw … mistletoe. That couldn’t be harmful. Could it?

When Tony looked back down, the figures were gone. Just as well, the dream was beginning to feel a little creepy. Was it his imagination or were the hazy edges coming closer? He shook his head. Of course it was his imagination, all of this was taking place inside his mind. Didn’t stop his vision from disintegrating, though. The leaves of the ash were blackening. The sky took on a dark red color. The lake disappeared. Nothing existed anymore in this reality except for the ash, which withered and trembled as the edges of reality were closing in on it …

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a whirl. A black and green whirl with flashes of gold dancing around it. Gold, green, black. Loki.

Tony woke with a start.

Maybe he preferred the “falling through space” nightmares after all.

 

#

 

The Malibu mansion wasn’t rebuilt yet, so Tony had to stay in New York for the harshest winter on record.

He, singular. Pepper was … dealing with the company.

That started being Tony’s automatic answer whenever someone, ok, Bruce, asked him where Pepper was. It had the great advantage of being true. Pepper was dealing with the company. She did what a CEO did. Simple.

Eventually, they decided to part on amicable terms. If someone had asked, Tony wouldn’t have had an answer as to why it happened. He had changed, hadn't he? It should hurt, but instead it felt … numb.

Nobody asked.

The world was safe. That counted.

 

#

 

A call from Fury usually meant bad news.

“Stark. Get yourself to the Triskelion tomorrow, 1500 hours. We’ll have a visitor from Asgard.”

 _Loki_ , was Tony’s first and completely irrational thought. As if that particular visitor would call ahead. As if that visitor was still alive.

“Care to elaborate on that?”

Fury glared. “Thor asked nicely to assemble the Avengers to meet with the future king of Asgard. It’s his brother …” Tony gasped, “the _other_ one, Stark, the not-crazy one. Baldo, or something. Apparently, he’s on a trip through the realms before taking the throne. Let me remind you that you will be representing Earth, so you will not be late and you will not be drunk. Do I make myself clear!”

“Sure, whatever.”

Thor had never mentioned another brother. Well, as long as he was not-crazy. They probably had a complicated line of succession on Asgard that they treated as very serious business indeed, so Tony would have to make three bad jokes about it to fulfill expectations.

For a moment, he contemplated not attending to annoy Fury, and because he wasn’t too keen on any new Asgardians, but curiosity won out. Besides, he hadn’t seen the others for a while. This might even turn out to be fun. Just as long they left DC intact. Surely that was not too much to ask of the future king of Asgard. Or of the World Security Council.

Tony went to refill his scotch.

 

#

 

The dream started out harmlessly enough, which was a first this month. There were probably aliens hiding around the corner of, yes, what was this? He was standing in some sort of ravine with dark rocks rising on every side of him, covered in snow and ice. Little pathways forked off into what looked like a veritable labyrinth. Above him, the sky was a deep blue full of clouds, as if it might start to snow at any moment. Strange scenery, this. Tony couldn’t place it. Some second-rate movie? Not too scary, comparatively speaking.

Still, something felt off. He didn’t know what, he didn’t know how, but he could tell. A feeling, just about.

Tony walked forward to the next-best opening between the rocks and turned the corner. More rocks. Yep, a labyrinth. Ice everywhere. Damn, it was cold. Looking down at himself, he noticed he was wearing jeans and some Black Sabbath shirt from a tour he’d never been to. In fact, now that he thought about it, Black Sabbath had never played a tour titled _Mistletoe_ at all.

“Stark,” said a voice from behind. It sounded familiar. It made the hair on his neck stand on edge.

Tony froze in place. _Wake up_ , he screamed at his subconscious. Or at least, _run_.

“Please don’t,” Loki said. The echo whispered, _don’t, don’t, don’t_ …

When he heard steps crushing ice behind him, the paralysis broke and Tony ran, ran through the labyrinth, expecting to find himself face-to-face with an evil Loki clone at any corner, and the wind was screaming at him, “Wait!” but he ran on, until the labyrinth opened up and he found himself on the edge of a cliff.

He staggered and tried to regain his balance. The wind was howling, clawing at him. He could see only down, into the abyss.

“Stark.” Closer, too close. “Would you listen?”

Tony jumped.

He sat on his bed, gasping, hands clutched above the arc reactor that wasn’t there anymore, the arc reactor that had protected him from Loki’s mind control. Why had he agreed to have it taken out again?

He forced himself to take a deep breath. Loki was dead. This was his subconscious going mad at the mere mention of Asgard. Great. That other brother of Thor’s, he’d better make this worthwhile.

 

#

 

“And what if this brother wants take over the world as well, kind of like a test for kingship?” Everyone glared at Barton, who held up his hands. “Hey, I’m just sayin’.”

He had a point, Tony thought.

“Loki was the adopted one,” Jane Foster intervened on Asgard’s behalf. “And even he was, well … he did save my life.”

Steve said, “Let’s just listen to what he has to say, alright?”

Barton grimaced, but subsided. Tony was oddly reassured to know that he wasn’t the only one who felt nervous. Or at least apprehensive. Natasha, for instance, next to Barton in civilian clothes, black jeans and a red sweater … she looked ready to kill the next suspicious stranger that walked in. Bruce, on the other hand, had declined the invitation altogether. Presumably, Fury hadn’t pushed him too hard.

Just as Tony was about to make a lame joke to cover that nervousness, the door opened. Fury walked in, looking like Fury, meaning he didn’t give any indication of anything. Behind him came Maria Hill with much the same expression, and Thor with that goofy smile of this. Anything could have happened.

Behind them, finally. He was Thor’s brother alright. Those features looked very similar, same height, too, even though he had darker, shorter hair, and wasn’t as strongly built. He wore a light blue cape over his Asgardian-style armor which probably had some complicated traditional reason, but struck Tony as an attempt to distance himself from Thor’s red and Loki’s green both. Although looking at those two and thinking of Loki, how had it taken everyone so long to figure out he was adopted? Never mind …

Everyone stood.

“Greetings, my friends,” Thor said. “Allow me to introduce Baldur Odinson, my brother and the future king of Asgard.”

Both of them smiled. Which of SHIELD’s gazillion protocols applied? Were they supposed to bow now? Jane hadn’t told them much about the inner workings of the Asgardian court, but then she’d been kind of busy.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” Baldur said. His voice sounded light, but commanding all the same. “Thor has told me much about Earth’s mightiest heroes.”

Tony’s quip at Loki. He should have that copyrighted.

“The pleasure is all ours,” Steve ventured.

“Splendid, really,” Tony said. Jane flinched and Fury glared at him, as if the small act of opening his mouth was enough to start an inter-realm war. Great vote of confidence. “It’s not everyday one gets to meet a monarch and all that. Say, should we bow down before you now?”

Natasha stopped him with a small, but painful kick to the ankle before he could ask, _should we kneel?_

“My friends, please.” Baldur’s smile widened. No trace of Loki’s crazy in there. In fact, not much trace of anything. He looked and sounded friendly enough, but … “I have come to Midgard to thank you first and foremost for the great service you have done the Nine Realms, and I wish to ensure that the unique bond forged between Midgard and Asgard will continue to yield such wonderful fruits of cooperation and friendship.”

“And we thank you for your courtesy,” Steve replied with a big smile of his own.

Everyone nodded, including Tony. Seemed like the best idea.

Baldur extended his hands in a benevolent gesture right out of Managing People 101. “Asgard has only the highest respect for this realm and will continue to defend your sovereign rights and wonderful unique culture which I much admire.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Steve said. “Please, allow us the courtesy of inviting you to a feast.” That sounded pre-planned with Fury, but Baldur looked none the less delighted.

So that guy would soon be protector of the Nine Realms. Thor had guaranteed them Asgard would never try and invade Earth as Loki had done, and Tony believed him. Tony even believed that Baldur had meant what he’d said in his little rehearsed speech. But still, something felt off.

Probably that was just him being paranoid.

 

#

 

That night, Tony had expected a nightmare about something unsubtle, like a full-blown Asgardian invasion, so he was surprised when he found himself in a room with shelves on all four sides that reached the ceiling, full of books that looked old enough to be worth a fortune. A fireplace built into one wall illuminated the room, and in front stood a small table with two green arm chairs. Through the window, he could see nothing except the night, and a bit of snow.

So far, so cozy. That couldn’t be right.

Behind him, the door opened. “Please refrain from jumping out of the window.”

Loki. Of course. This was great. Just peachy.

“Why?” Tony replied without turning around. He was five steps from the window. How far down would it be?

“What possible use could you derive from such an action?”

“Waking up, for one. Before your dream-self can inflict any sort of psychological damage or whatever it is you’re doing in my subconscious.”

Loki laughed, low and melodious and not at all crazy, at least, not yet. “But Stark, there is a flaw in your reasoning. If jumping out of a window cannot harm you in this dream, then how could I? Besides, running away will not provide you with any answers.”

Well, he had a point. Kind of. At the very least, it made Tony turn around.

Loki was leaning in the doorway with a casual smile on his face. He was not even in his armor, just black trousers and a dark green tunic.

“Like asking you for answers would do any good.” But then again, why not. Might as well go with it, just to mix things up. “Alright, I will not jump out of the window of whatever this is just yet.”

“Splendid.” Loki’s smile widened. It looked different from Baldur, definitely. In case Tony had been wondering whether that might be a shape-shifted Loki. Which he hadn’t. “Shall we sit?”

Well, why not. Tony made his way over to the arm chairs and sunk into the nearest one. It was as comfortable as it looked. He leaned back and watched Loki settle into the other chair in one fluid motion. Somehow, all of this still felt wrong, but more the surreal kind than the “shit is about to go down” kind.

“This place,” Loki waved a hand around, “is everywhere and nowhere. I find it rather convenient.”

“Sure sounds like it.” It was a dream. Of course it felt surreal. Go with the flow. “Does everywhere-nowhere happen to have a bar?”

That laugh again. “But don’t _you_ owe _me_ a drink?”

“True, but you see, you’re dead in the real world and we’re in your dreamland, so that kind of puts me at a disadvantage in the drink offering department.”

“Fair point.” Loki reached underneath the table and produced a bottle of scotch, followed by two tumblers. “Still, the next time we meet, you will owe me two drinks.”

“Which part of your real self being dead did my subconscious projection of you not get?”

Loki poured the drinks. It occurred to Tony that it might be poisoned, but again, just a dream. Even though it felt pretty real, come to think of it. What if Loki wasn’t dead? What if Loki had trapped him here to psychologically torture him for all eternity? He couldn’t completely disregard this possibility, considering the stuff that had happened during the past couple of years, but still, he didn’t feel that instinctive need to bolt anymore. Instead, he took his drink and asked, “Any toast?”

“To Baldur, perhaps.”

“What, future king Baldur the Bland?” Tony frowned. “What about him?”

“What about him indeed.” Loki tasted his scotch. “Baldur the Bland.” He chuckled. “I must admit, I like that.”

“Well, I don’t like _him_. Something’s off.” Tony sipped his scotch as well. Wow, that was some seriously good stuff. Could’ve come straight from his own bar. “He just seems so … _nice_. Which, don’t get me wrong, is a great change from your invader antics, so I’m not complaining, it’s just …” Yes, what. “Look, since you’re here, all chatty, how come no one has ever mentioned that there was a third Odinson?”

Loki’s mouth wrinkled in distaste. “A second. I am Laufey’s son. Still, it remains an excellent question. Why was Baldur’s existence hidden from the world? Why was he himself hidden from the world?”

“He was? Well, at least that explains why he sounds as if he came out of some bottle.” Loki laughed at that. “Wait, you mean he did?”

“Not exactly. Not like your captain’s serum, if that is your frame of reference. But Baldur was held in a stasis since early childhood. It would be most unfortunate if he were to die, so it was done to protect him, but even more so, it was done to protect Asgard. To protect all the realms, and Yggdrasil itself.”

“That’s … a bit extreme, don’t you think?” Tony took another sip of his drink. How much could the death of one man set in motion, even if he was a prince of Asgard?

“Perhaps. Odin did not think so at the time. Now, Thor’s actions have forced his hand. He needs a successor and since he remains disinclined to leave the throne to me …”

“I’ll drink to that.” Ouch. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. That window was big enough to be thrown out of, after all.

But there was no angry reaction. They looked at each other across the table, in the flickering lights.

“Yes. Perhaps it is for the best.” Amusement gone, Loki looked resigned now, almost desolate. Tony felt a twinge of sympathy before he remembered that this lunatic had killed way too many people in search for that throne of his.

“So,” Tony said, “what do you think you’re doing here, wandering the dreamworld? Some sort of exile to see the error of your ways and me to help you realize you’re an idiot? In that case, sorry to disappoint, but that’s kind of impossible.”

The laugh made a return, but no further elaboration, so for a while, they just sat there, in this cozy dream library, sipping their really fantastic scotch. Tony sank deeper into his chair and found that he felt almost … good. It made him wonder why the other dreams that Loki had appeared in had all involved creepiness and mistletoe, because surely his subconscious was not that desperate. Although, to be fair, when Loki wasn’t trying to kill him or snarling the crazy snarl, he didn’t look half bad. Hm. Mass-murdering lunatic. Had to be the dream alcohol speaking.

Might as well ask, before all this inevitably went south. “So, erm, you’ve turned up in my dreams from time to time, which I don’t appreciate by the way, it’s creepy, but anyway, why does it always have to involve mistletoe?”

The last word made Loki flinch, enough to spill scotch over those slender fingers. “Did you say mistletoe?”

“Yeah, I said mistletoe. Is that stuff bad on Asgard? Portent of universal doom, or what?”

Loki put down his drink and sucked scotch off his thumb. Right. Not at all distracting. Wait, where had that come from? “Crude assessment, but essentially correct.”

Tony frowned. “Universal doom? Because of mistletoe? You’re kidding, right. Is that another of those gloomy stories that you guys left with the Vikings?” Selvig had told him, after the battle of New York. Not that Tony had been listening much, he’d been drunk out of his mind. “About this, what’s it called, twilight of the gods, ragna-something.”

“… Ragnarök?”

“That’s the one!”

Loki closed his eyes. He didn’t seem to like what he saw there, and when he opened them again, he looked … unsettled. “Allow me to clarify: you have records on Midgard about how the world will end.”

“Records?” Tony frowned. “Not really. If you mean, stories, then, yeah, sure. Norse mythology, as far as I know that’s packed with doom and gloom. Seems to have been quite the trend in the Viking Age.”

Loki stood. “I will have to leave you here, Stark. The next time I stop by, I would be much obliged if you could also refrain from running or similar disruptive actions. It makes everything much more agreeable, don’t you think?”

“Kind of, yes, but hey, what do you mean, the next time, what —”

The library dissolved and Tony woke up in his bed.

Only he didn’t. He was sitting in the living room of Avengers Tower, not the bed where he was sure he’d fallen asleep. In front of him on the table stood a bottle of his best scotch and two half-empty glasses.

 

#

 

What Tony should do was file this as the usual strange experience. What he should probably do was consider he might be sleepwalking. What he should definitely do was forget the entire episode.

What he should not do was talk to Thor.

“Tell me big guy, how come you’ve never mentioned your brother Baldur before?”

Thor, who had come over with Jane to compare notes on the latest Bifrost activity, frowned. Even though it was, after all, a reasonable question that might have occurred to anyone.

“He was sickly as a child. We feared for his life. He spent most of his time in the healing chambers instead of playing at war.”

Sounded reasonable, actually. Perfect for Loki to put a spin on it, what with him being the god of mischief and lies and stuff. But …

“Lucky coincidence he turned out alright now, then, I guess?”

“It is indeed.”

Not good enough. Tony pushed on, “And there’s no more risk to his health now? Only asking because Protector of the Nine Realms and King of Asgard, all that doesn’t exactly strike me as a risk-free environment.”

“You need not worry.” Thor beamed. “Baldur is admirably equipped now to handle these duties.”

Probably, if he’d turned up in every realm with his famous warrior hero brother in tow, so that no one would dare disagree. Somehow, this didn’t sit right with Tony.

“Sure thing, but I seem to recall that there was this story Selvig told me,” Jane looked up sharply at that, “you know, the ones the Vikings wrote about your people, there was something about Baldur, and he was connected to this what’s-it-called, ragnarök?”

Thor laughed. That counted as a good sign, right? “Again, you need not worry, Tony Stark! Ragnarök is but a story. A myth.”

Jane frowned. “A story? You mean, like Malekith and the Aether were a _story_?”

It gave Thor pause.

Records, Loki had said. Records of how the world would end. But it hadn’t been Loki at all, it had been a dream, a fragment of another story that couldn’t … be real …

Tony cleared his throat, “Don’t know about you, but this is getting to meta for me. How about we get back to science?”

 

#

 

Thor was busy loading equipment into the van. Jane said, “When Selvig first gave me a book about Norse mythology, it was to tell me that Thor was a fraud. And yet, here he is, the god of thunder. I read everything there was in the two years I searched for him. They’re not the same person, you know, the mythological Thor and him. In all those stories, there are so many differences that I put them aside, but when Baldur came, I remembered the stories, too. His death sets ragnarök in motion.” She shivered. “You want to know who kills him?”

Oh. Of course. “… Loki?”

“Exactly. So there’s another thing that deviates, because he can’t do that from the grave now, can he. Which is … great.” She looked away. Loki had, after all, saved her life. But then, who’d want the world to end?

“Great. Yeah. Thanks. For telling me, I mean.”

Thor chose that moment to reappear and announce that the van was now fully loaded and they were ready to leave. So they did.

Tony thought about the two tumblers on his table with creeping dread.

“JARVIS, compile me a list of …” Yes, of what? Norse mythology? He could tell at a glance everything about any piece of weaponry, code, anything technological, but how did one go about disassembling a myth? Best start with those Viking stories, what were those called again …

 

#

 

Sometime during binge searching, Tony had fallen asleep, because he “woke up” in one of the armchairs in the library. The other one was occupied by no other than a pensive Loki. In armor, this time.

“You!” Tony jumped to his feet, looking for the exit or, failing that, a heavy book to hurl. “What are you doing in my head again? Want my help in bringing about the apocalypse? Guess you didn’t get the memo but death and destruction aren’t really my area anymore and —”

“The apocalypse?” Loki laughed. Tony flinched and took a step back, before berating himself for such blatant cowardice. “Funny you should call it that.”

“It? You mean, this ragnarök thing of yours? You know, last time I checked, some age-old poem doesn’t really make the rules for the future.”

“Believe it or not, Stark, I am here to offer you protection. The wolf is on the prowl.”

“The — what is this, Harry Potter? Seriously, could you be any more —”

“Sir,” JARVIS interrupted. “There appears to be an intruder on the ground level of Avengers Tower.”

Tony snapped awake. “I hadn’t noticed! Could you maybe wake me up right away the next time Loki happens to drop by, it’s getting a little annoying - and did you say ground level?”

“Level 2 now. The intruder’s energy readings are not consistent with those on record of Loki Laufeyson.”

Huh. “Then who is in my Tower?”

“Unknown, sir.”

Another voice spoke, definitely not in a dream this time. “You might want to, ah, ‘suit up.’”

Next to his bed, in the semi-dark, stood Loki. Very real, very alive Loki.

Tony scrambled out of bed to put distance between them. “JARVIS, deploy Mark XLIII. Initiate full lock-down. Alert Fury. Alert everyone, and do it five minutes ago.”

“Lock-down initiated. Deploying now. Calling all SHIELD frequencies.”

“Your SHIELD - if I were to hazard a guess - should be rather busy at the moment.” Loki grinned.

“JARVIS, suit, now,” Tony snapped. “What do you mean, busy. What have you done now?”

“Charming, how you immediately conclude that I must be the one behind this recent outbreak of … mayhem. Rest assured, Stark, if I wanted you dead, you would be.”

Well. Since he was standing in Tony’s bedroom and hadn’t himself triggered any alarms whatsoever, that might even be the truth. Oh cheerful thought.

“Then what —”

“I cannot, however, guarantee that Fenrir will be so obliging.” Loki gestured at the blinking intruder alert on the wall.

“Fenrir. Look, when I asked whether this was Harry Potter, I was actually kidding.”

Fortunately, his suit arrived and assembled itself around him. There. Tony felt better.

“Sir, the intruder is progressing up the levels and closing in on your location. The defense protocols are not responding. Neither is Director Fury, nor anyone else at SHIELD. It appears that someone is hacking their system.”

“Put that on my screen. All of it.”

Footage and code filled the HUD. The intruder was ten levels below, closing fast, but there had to be some interference with the surveillance because the feed was badly blurred. SHIELD’s protocols, on the other hand, were being overridden and a new logo flashed across the screen.

“Hydra? Hold on a sec, Cap’s arch nemesis that we thought was done and dusted is taking over SHIELD - and my Tower?”

“Not quite.” Tony flinched. He’d almost forgotten Loki was there. “Hydra is taking over SHIELD, yes. But the attacker on your Tower, as I have already pointed out, is Fenrir.”

“You know what, I don’t actually care. I’ll go stop him and you’re coming with me unless you want a a few uranium rounds jammed down your throat. I’ll deal with you next. And then Hydra.”

Loki, inexplicably, smiled. “By all means.”

 

#

 

They were advancing down empty corridors to no sound apart from the blaring intruder alert. Loki went ahead, because no way was Tony turning his back on that bastard. JARVIS couldn’t get reliable footage of the intruder; somehow, the images all ended up blurred.

Anti-technology measures? That worked against Tony Stark? How had that person managed to get into the Tower in the first place, that was not supposed to even be possible. No one on the planet had the ability to get past this amount of security. Which meant, what, more aliens from outer space? Just what his night had needed …

Loki stopped so abruptly that Tony almost slammed into him, suit and all. Would’ve served him right.

Before he could say anything, a green-and-gold blast of energy roared past them from around the corner. Energy blasts, okay. But who had fired it?

Only one way to find out. Tony stepped past him into the corridor and - caught another energy blast dead-center to the chest. He was flung backwards and slammed into the next-best wall. Alright then …

“Damage to power source and main repulsors,” JARVIS reported. “Power at 65% capacity and dropping rapidly.”

“Any backlash energy from the blast we can use?”

“Negative, sir. Also, I wouldn’t recommend firing high energy weapons inside the Tower.”

Tony clambered to his feet. The HUD couldn’t get a reading on the intruder, so he slammed up the faceplate to have a look. It was a black-clad figure, average human size and built, except for the head, which did in fact look like - a wolf’s. Probably some weirdo helmet, weren’t those the craze on Asgard?

“Hey, you, Fenrir or whatever you call yourself,” Tony shouted. “I don’t recall inviting you to the party, so kindly get out of my Tower while you still have the chance!”

Fenrir laughed, loud and, for lack of a better word, barking. In a deep, reverberating voice, he called, “That would be counter-productive, Mr Tony Stark.”

“True, it would be extremely counter-productive to your continued existence. I’d rethink that if I were you, I really would.”

JARVIS said, “Power at 53% capacity. There is a leak in the cooling liquid supply. An estimated 10.34 minutes until the suit starts to overheat.”

Fenrir used that moment to - grow an ice blade out of his left arm. Right. He lunged forward, but Tony closed the faceplate, fired up the thrusters and slammed Fenrir through a door and a window. He dropped Fenrir a mere thirty floors before stabilizing mid-air.

“I dare say this will be even less efficient than dropping you out of a window,” Loki observed.

“Sir, Fenrir has survived the fall,” JARVIS said. The late-night crowd was scattering in panic from the crater. But Fenrir was, indeed, climbing out of it without any obvious injuries.

“Who is this guy?” Tony asked.

“A taste of things to come,” Loki replied. “We should leave. Unless you wish him to level your building and half of Manhattan with it. Fenrir is here to kill you, not destroy New York. At least, not yet.”

“Hang on a second, there’s no way I’m —”

A thud as Loki had apparently jumped out of the window to grab a hold of the suit mid-air. As you did. Before Tony could even divert any power to the thrusters, the Tower dissolved into a green-and-gold whirl in front of him.

“Sir, I am losing your readings entirely, it appears that you are leaving t—”

Tony plunged into darkness.

 

#

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings (beware of spoilers): canon-typical violence, (minor) character death, amputation (no gore though), (brief mention of, but no actual) incest and suicide, heavy drinking, disembodied head (still, no gore)


	2. Chapter 2

Loki’s voice drifted through the haze. “You, Stark, are magnificently useful.”

Tony blinked into his flickering HUD, which was going crazy at the inexplicable input pouring in. He disengaged the faceplate and took in the environment. Everything was covered by a thin veil of mist. No skyscrapers visible against the dusty blue sky, just gray cliffs. The only vegetation looked like over-sized aloe plants with spiky leaves pointing upwards. Definitely not New York City, so …

“Where the hell am I?”

Laughter came from his right, but that had been a female voice. “For a mere mortal, you are quick on the uptake.”

Tony whirled around and found himself faced with four warriors, two men and two women, in Asgardian-style black armor with battered golden ornaments. All of them had their swords drawn and were scowling at him from underneath their winged helmets. One of the guys had blue skin. Sure thing. None of them had spoken, though, because the voice continued, from behind them, “It’s quite alright, let me have a look.”

They parted, two to each side, to let the woman pass. She was tall and, it had to be admitted, rather beautiful. Unlike her bodyguards, she was dressed in a dark blue gown that wouldn’t have looked out of place at the opera. Her pinned-up hair was dark red and so, disconcertingly, were her eyes. Apart from those, she could be Asgardian.

The woman turned to Loki. “Now look at you, didn’t I tell you it was too early?”

He laughed, or rather, attempted to. “I had little choice in the matter.”

“Nonsense.”

“Erm,” Tony said. “Sorry to interrupt, I’m sure that’s some important issues you got to sort out here, but there’s a super-powered maniac trying to level my home in New York and a Nazi organization trying to take over my organization, so could you just send me back there before this gets nasty?”

“Super powered-maniac?” The woman frowned, then looked at Loki, who nodded. “Oh, Fenrir. He has left your city. With some regret, I should add.”

“Oh great, so you’re all in league with the big bad wolf? It’s my lucky day.” Tony sighed. His suit was still responsive, but extrapolating from JARVIS’ last report, it might not be for much longer. “Hey, who are you?”

“My name is Hel.” She extended her arms. “I am the protector of this realm, which might be known to you by the same name. We rather prefer Niflheim.”

“Hell? This - this is hell?” Tony looked around. No circles of sinners in sight, but maybe those were a bit further off. “So, I’m, what, dead?”

“Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?”

Tony was spared from having to answer by Loki of all people, who had been awfully quiet and now, without warning, staggered and stumbled against the suit. Tony caught him on instinct. All four guards trained their swords of him and Hel herself had transformed her right hand into an ice sword. Exactly like the one Fenrir had used. To top it off, Tony had a half-conscious, barely breathing Loki in his arms.

“Steady there,” he said. “Do you think you could maybe not run me through with any pointy things and I don’t drop Loki on the floor.” No reaction. “Alright, I _will_ drop him on the floor, if that’s your thing, I really don’t care either way, but this is starting to get more than a little creepy.”

Hel vanished her ice sword, which made the guards lower theirs. She stepped forward and brushed a tangle of black hair off Loki’s forehead. “You stupid, stupid man. Rest now. I will keep you safe.”

“I have to — ”

“ _Father_.” Tony almost dropped Loki then. Hel went on, “Just for once, father. Don’t.”

She waved the guards closer with her other hand. Two took the lifeless Loki, the other two grabbed either arm of Tony. He was too stunned to even protest as Hel led the procession away.

 

#

 

They eventually arrived at a doorway cut into the middle of yet another cliff. When Tony looked up, he could see a few small windows and even a balcony in the mist. Some sort of residence, then. Hel and the guards carrying Loki vanished around the corner. The other guards led Tony down a hallway and into a windowless, but thankfully lit room. It contained nothing more than a bed, but at least they left Tony there without shackling him or anything.

Now what? Escape seemed futile, for the time being. So Tony did the next best thing he could and got out of his useless suit. Releasing all the joints manually killed some time. He took one of the detachable guns he’d added after the Mandarin and stuffed it into his trousers, just in case. He checked the entire room for surveillance measures, possible exits or any other useful information and came up with zilch. Great. What could these people want with him? Afghanistan all over again …

He sat down on the bed, which was surprisingly soft. Damn, he really hoped SHIELD was dealing with Hydra alright in his absence. Cap surely had it covered. Loki was probably behind that as well, one way or the other. Tony thought back to their conversation in the library / his living room. Had he seriously been enjoying himself then? Bad mistake. He hadn’t known Loki was alive, granted, but still.

At least, Loki seemed incapacitated at the moment. Tony would work out a way of escaping eventually. For now, though, he did what he was worst at: waiting.

 

#

 

Two guards came and marched Tony down a few grim-looking corridors. The guards didn’t say a word and Tony didn’t ask. He knew the drill. But they hadn’t checked him for weapons, that counted for something.

They led him into a dark room and left him standing there. It took Tony’s eyes a few moments to adjust. A low golden shine wasn’t enough to illuminate the whole room; it lost itself in darkness in all directions. Tony walked towards the light until he arrived at a bed encased in a swirling, golden bubble. Inside, a pale and unconscious Loki.

“I wouldn’t get too close,” Hel said.

Tony flinched. “Jeez, a little warning next time. What am I doing here, anyway?”

“You are being protected, until we can figure out how to deal with this new threat. And as you can see, Loki is not exactly in any shape to be making plans and the moment.”

Before Tony could embark on a rant about how he wanted to be sent back on the spot and other choice questions, a gust of icy blue something exploded from Loki’s body and slammed against the golden barrier. Tony stumbled backwards. The blue gust reflected off in all directions, but couldn’t get out. Beneath the whirl, Loki writhed in pain.

Hel reached into the bubble. She winced at the impact, but didn’t stop until she held Loki’s left hand in both of hers. Gradually, the blue energy dispersed and he stilled. Hel didn’t let go of the hand though.

“What’s wrong with him?” Tony could hear himself say. Not that he’d care if that lunatic died right there and then.

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, I think I could make an exception for you and cancel my five o’clock, just this once.”

She huffed. “Exhaustion.”

“Okay, in that case, what would be the _short_ story?” No reply. “But seriously, what am I doing here? In this realm and in this room? I mean, I’ve got to get home to kick out Hydra, or are those your minions as well?”

“Ah, Hydra. The serpent that will now encompass the entire world.” Hel sighed. “No, Loki has nothing to do with them. That’s what is so troubling.”

Tony wasn’t sure he agreed with that assessment … “He doesn’t? Didn’t he get the invite to the Interstellar Scumbag Society or what?”

“Have care how you speak of my father.”

“Wait, so Loki is really your father?” And in that case, who was the mother?

Hel nodded. In all this conversation, she hadn’t taken her eyes off Loki once. Tony regarded them both. He could see it now, that long neck, the pointed features, the inherent grace … right.

“Okay then, family business aside, what is this Fenrir on about? And why me?”

“You have seen it, have you not? The other side of the galaxy.” The wormhole … That place was still a danger to Earth? He remembered the ash for some reason, withering and twisting … Hel continued, “You have had dreams since then, dreams that have resonated here. You are on their radar, so we have that in common, even if you don’t believe it yet. We brought you here so you would understand what is to come, and what is at stake. This little episode was … unfortunate. But it can’t be helped now. When my father awakes, we will discuss our next step.”

“Woah, hang on, I’m totally not okay with being part of a first person plural here, since when am I even on board with —”

The blue energy returned, this time seizing on Hel’s arms with such violence it made her double over, but she didn’t let go of Loki’s hand. Tesseract blue, Tony realized. That was why it had seemed familiar. What had she said, they were all on someone’s radar, the people on the other side of the wormhole, not the Chitauri fleet, which had been destroyed, but then who …? If their powers, whatever they were, could latch onto Loki, that surely didn’t bode well for the rest of them?

Another blast slammed into Hel’s arm. The impact flung her to the floor this time. The blasts crashed against the barrier as if they wanted to get out and finish the job.

“Hey!” Tony shouted. “Loki, stop! Whatever is going on in there, you’re hurting your own daughter!”

Somewhat to his surprise, the whirl slowed down. Then it stopped. Okay … He looked down at Hel, who seemed as baffled as he was. He offered her a hand, which she ignored as she rose gracefully to her feet.

“Well. Father did say you were useful.”

She wanted to say something else, but that was the moment Loki opened his eyes again.

For a moment, Loki’s eyes had a reddish hue before they reverted back to normal. The golden bubble dispersed and he sat up, looking more worn-out than after his encounter with the Hulk. He waved away Hel’s attempts to help.

“Hello again, Stark. Where were we?”

Tony scowled. “You were probably going to explain to me what all this is, but actually, don’t bother. If this sudden display of weakness and you having a daughter is an elaborate set-up to gain my sympathy and get me on your side, I’m not buying it. What next, adorable puppies? Do you even _have_ cookies?”

Loki - laughed. That couldn’t be a good sign. “See,” he said to Hel, “I told you not to underestimate him, even if he is a mortal. But no, Stark, rest assured there is no elaborate set-up. Hel _is_ my daughter, and Garm cannot be taken for a puppy by any definition.” He got to his feet and wavered, but managed. “Now, for more important matters. Fenrir will return. Your SHIELD is being taken out by Hydra. I suggest that we proceed with you considering your options.”

“People will be looking for me, you realize that,” Tony said. Not that many of those would find him in another realm. Only one, in fact. “Thor, among others.”

The door opened and one of the guards came in. “I apologize for interrupting, ma’am, but the latest shipment from Asgard has arrived.”

Hel sighed. “King Baldur didn’t waste any time, did he. I’ll be right there.” She and Loki exchanged a look, he nodded and off she went.

That left Tony alone in an indefinitely large room with Loki. Considering your options, indeed.

“Tell you what, Stark. I’ll give you a small tour, at the end of which we will take a drink. If you wish to leave after that, no matter how you decide, you will be free to do so.”

“How do you know you’ll let me?”

“You don’t. But come on, aren’t you the least bit curious as to what this realm looks like?”

He started off towards the door. Tony hurried after him, because why not. It had gotten him pretty far in that dream, and while all this might yet turn out to be an elaborate scheme, it sure beat sitting in a dark room. For now.

 

#

 

Loki led down a dimly lit corridor, which opened into a hall. The ceiling lost itself in the darkness as everything did around these parts. Gray pillars lined the wall where it was visible. Hel stood in front of a group of what Tony would normally have thought to be pretty decent Lord of the Rings cosplayers, but now, he had to consider that those actually were … dwarves. Okay then. About twenty of them, and a few Asgardians by the looks of them. Men with blue skin and red eyes were guarding them.

“What is their crime?” Hel asked.

“Theft, mostly,” one of the guards said. He produced a square, flat piece of metal. “Thought you might want to see this. Or rather, he would.”

The last part had been directed at Loki, who stepped forward. “Why, my dear Byleist, to what do I owe this astonishing degree of obligingness?”

The guy handed the piece of metal over. While Loki was studying it, Byleist turned to Tony. “Who are you? How did you end up in Asgard’s dirty little secret? One of them, anyway.”

“He’s not a prisoner,” Hel intervened. When Tony frowned, she explained, “The vaults of Asgard only stretch so far, especially for a realm that would style itself as a peacekeeper for all. So they process their prisoners, and most of them they bring here. It is however a myth that we execute them all.”

“One that you probably haven’t worked too hard to discourage?” Tony ventured.

It made Byleist laugh. “Let me guess, he tried to destroy your world and now you’ve somehow wound up in his service anyway? He has a habit of doing that, you see. Runs in the family. Murderers and thieves, the lot of them. Asgardians, pah. Oh wait, it doesn’t count if Thor does it, he’s just killing frost giants after all and he was exiled for a few days as grave punishment. Bo-hoo. And you, Midgardian, what do you matter, in the grand scheme of things?”

Before Tony could answer, Loki thrust the piece of metal into his hands. It looked like some sort of board game, with the playing field divided into equal squares. It might have been stuck in the mud for considerable time, but the tell-tale shimmer of gold could still be made out. There was an intricate pattern etched into the surface. Tony didn’t have to wipe much before he realized what it was. Mistletoe.

Loki said, “Come, Stark, we have much to discuss.” He took the board and handed it to Hel, who eyed it with some suspicion. Byleist was grinning from ear to ear. Their eyes had the same shade of red. Huh.

Loki beckoned Tony to follow, down another corridor. When they were out of earshot, he said, “Don’t listen to a word Byleist says. He is merely trying to justify his being in my service, which he abhors. And besides, he has this entire family thing all tangled up.”

“What, is he secretly your son as well?”

“My brother, actually.” Loki grinned. “But I have something of his that he would have returned.”

Blackmail. How cliché … Tony thought back to what Byleist had said, and there they were, at a fairly central problem - how could he be standing here with Loki of all people? Images rose in Tony’s mind, of the destroyed city, of the Chitauri fleet, of Coulson’s blood.

“If I shouldn’t listen to him, does that mean you’re, what, not defending yourself? No more strutting about as the rightful king of Earth?” No reply. “You know, as far as defenses go, you said it yourself, to Natasha. We’re all killers. Ask me how many innocent people died because of the weapons I made. Still, no excuse for you to be waltzing around Earth and killing people and destroying New York. I haven’t forgiven you for that, by the way.”

Loki grimaced. “I did not expect that you would. But you see, Stark, I’m not asking you to. My only concern is for what lies ahead.”

On that note, he strode off. What was Tony doing here? Granted, he had no way off this realm at the moment, so playing along was still his best option, but … But nothing. He’d have to wait his turn.

 

#

 

They walked down the corridor to the other side of the building. All corridors were dark, so Tony just focused on not losing Loki. Eventually, they arrived at a rather large, wooden door, which Loki threw open. Outside, mist hung over what appeared to be a bridge made of black stone. Beneath, Tony could hear the water roar.

“Come along. You wished for puppies, did you not.” Loki led him out onto the bridge. Following him was probably not the wisest move, but whatever. They’d come far enough without any attempts on Tony’s life.

About twelve steps in, Loki stopped and turned around. “Meet Garm, whom they call the gate-keeper of Hel.”

Tony turned. The black cliff they’d emerged from, about ten floors of it, had been carved up to resemble a gigantic hound. It was snarling, rearing its head, as if ready to strike on any unwelcome visitor that dared venture into its icy gaze. Gate-keeper indeed … Tony tried to imagine being a prisoner shipped here from golden Asgard and welcomed by this sight. It wasn’t hard to figure out why they had likened this realm to death. He should probably be glad the remaining cliffs were veiled by mist …

“Well, he’s the cuddly type, I can tell. Real cozy realm you’ve found yourself here.”

Loki laughed. “You have not seen anything, yet.”

They walked on through the mist, until Tony lost all sense of direction, even though he was fairly certain they were walking in a straight line. He could hear the water roar still, but couldn’t see further than Loki’s back. Which he’d just almost run into.

“Are you afraid of heights?” Loki shouted.

“You might have noticed that I can fly!” Tony shouted back. No other way to make oneself be heard above the torrent. “With my suit, I mean, it’s not an invitation to —”

A ball of golden magic gathered in Loki’s palm. He winked at Tony and threw it upwards, like a tennis player. The mist dispersed in its wake.

They were standing in the exact middle of a canyon between the cliffs, with nothing but the bridge for miles in all directions. The cliffs were black against a sleet gray sky, towering over them in mismatched spikes. Beneath, the dark water roared on. Tony stared, dumbfounded. He was dimly aware that his heart was thundering in his chest. If he’d been harboring any hope that he was still on Earth, the river tore it away. He wanted to go closer to the edge of the bridge. It had no railing. He wanted to look down into that river, but at the same time, he remembered falling, falling through a window and through space, down always —

“Stark.” A cold hand on his shoulder snapped him out of it. “We should leave now.”

“Yeah,” Tony mumbled.

Loki waved his other hand and the mist descended again, swallowing the spikes and even deafening the river somewhat. Tony just stumbled on, further down the bridge and away from it, down a path between two cliffs.

It was only when the roar had receded that Tony noticed the hand was still on his shoulder. He shook it off. “Okay, I’m impressed, I won’t even bother denying it. Where to next?”

“I promised you a drink.”

“Oh, let me guess, we’re having one at The Hanging Cliff just around the corner?”

“See for yourself.”

They did in fact turn a few more corners, until the road opened up to about a mile across. The cliffs on either side had windows and doors and even balconies carved into them, a dozen floors of them.

People were walking around, without armor even, Asgardians, frost giants, dwarves. No guards to be seen anywhere, and no sign of any trouble either.

Loki said, “There is a place not far off that serves a drink you might enjoy. If you’d follow me.”

 

#

 

They turned left into a small alley lined by actual bars. There was one called Sindri’s, whose interior seemed to consist entirely of gold. They were steering towards a lavish bar furnished in red and black, but Loki stopped in front of the inconspicuous wooden door next to it, labeled BRIMIR in withered letters.

Inside, the bar looked as small as its entrance at first sight, but as his eyes adjusted to the lower lights, Tony saw that the room was dissected by various walls, which had alcoves with tables and green armchairs tucked into them. Torches lit various corners at different times, flickering on and off as if by magic. Well, it probably _was_ magic. The black walls were etched with golden ornaments, plants mostly, but to Tony’s relief no mistletoe. Overall … no surprise Loki favored this place. But not something he’d have expected after all those black cliffs and the mist.

“Give you good even,” Loki greeted the barkeeper, a grumpy Asgardian-looking guy, though he was rather tall. “Your special for my guest, if you’d please. The usual for myself.”

“Comin’ right up.”

To Tony, he said, “Take a seat, anywhere you’d like.”

All those alcoves made this the perfect place to have private conversations. As Tony strolled over to the right side, he noticed that a few alcoves were occupied, but he couldn’t hear a word. More magic at work. He settled down in an alcove out of everyone’s sight. It held a low table with two armchairs opposite each other, beneath an ornament of flowers that vaguely resembled tulips. The torch above the table flickered on. Tony blinked.

“Uhm, lights? Turn it down a notch, that’d be great?”

Just as he was beginning to feel silly for talking to a torch, the light did dim. So magical torches spoke English. But then again, didn’t everyone in the universe?

Tony took his seat in the armchair. It looked familiar. The same built and color that Loki kept in his dream world library. Tony sank deeper into the chair. Hmm. He’d been awoken by that Fenrir attack in the middle of the night, which had probably been short in the first place. He might just …

“I have been informed that you dislike being handed things, though I hope you could be persuaded to make an exception for this.” Loki was standing there, holding out a glass.

For one sleepy moment, Tony thought about declining. Then he remembered that he was in a different realm, at the mercy of this lunatic. How was this his life, again?

“Yeah, but it ranks below being kidnapped, didn’t Barton tell you that?” He took the glass.

“Fenrir forced my hand. There was no other way.” Loki sat down in a swirl of his ridiculous coat. Hadn’t that man looked ready to keel over and die a mere half-hour ago? “You see, Barton might have told me everything he knew about you, but I highly doubt he told me everything there is.”

Tony glared. “Blatant flattery will get you nowhere. If Barton told you that, he was wrong.” Or so he hoped.

“Would drugging you?”

He almost dropped the glass, which Loki seemed to find hilarious. “Relax, Stark. Try it. If the drink is not to your liking, I can have Brimir procure anything you wish.”

The liquid as such was translucent, with golden threads swirling in it. “What is this, then?”

“Asgardian beer.”

That actually sounded like something worth trying. After all, who could say they’d ever tasted Asgardian beer? Although the only Avenger who could hold their own in a drinking contest with Thor was Natasha, as Tony knew from painful experience.

The drink might be poisoned. Might … Tony took a sip. Flavors exploded onto his tongue, it tasted a bit like scotch, but laced with a deep, rich honey and something else that he couldn’t identify. “Well, it’s no Pan-Galactic Gargle-Blaster, but it’s not bad, this stuff, I give you that.” He took another sip. “So, what are you having? No beer for you?”

“Not anymore. Well, Stark, here we are. What do you want to know?”

“What do I want you to lie about, you mean? Alright, alright. From what I do know, there is this guy called Fenrir who got into my Tower and tried to kill me. So, yeah, I can get behind catching the bastard and learning how he got past my security systems. But how did you end up in the middle of it? I thought you were finally dead.”

“That was the plan. To make Odin see reason as regards his successor.”

“I’m guessing that didn’t work out too well for you.”

Loki looked away. “… I may have tried to trick him. Not my wisest idea, I grant you that.”

“Yeah, you don’t seem to have an awful lot of wise ideas, if you don’t mind me saying so.” What with the failed invasion and all. Loki glared, but didn’t magically asphyxiate Tony or anything. Yet. Man, but this drink was growing on him. If Loki kept him here out of spite, at least he hoped the bar would remain well-stocked. “Okay, so who is this Fenrir guy, anyway?”

“He is traversing the Nine Realms with the intention to plunge them into one eternal night. I had him cornered, once, but I was interrupted. By you, as it were.”

Tony frowned. “Me? I’m pretty sure I would remember that.”

“I should think so. Haven’t you ever dreamed of a desert made of ice, vast and desolate and colder than the grave?”

“Oh. That.” The dream where he’d jumped off a cliff. “What was that?”

“It is a realm called Jötunheim, the home of the frost giants, such as your new friend Byleist.”

Right. Thor had told the Avengers stories about the frost giants, as in, the horror stories he’d grown up with as a kid - he and Loki, presumably. Loki, who was a frost giant himself … But never mind that. The last thing Tony wanted was more insight into that crazy mind.

“Ok, I remember that. Speaking of dreams, where was that other one? The one with the ash tree and the wyred sisters?”

“You spoke to the Norns?” For once, Loki looked concerned. That couldn’t be a good sign. “In front of Yggdrasil, the world tree? Did Skuld grant you a glimpse of the future?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but no. They just called me by my name, you know, Merchant of Death, Iron Man, Tony Stark. But you turned up in that dream as well, didn’t you. Why is that? Hel said I keep dreaming of you,” Loki grinned at that in a not entirely appropriate way, which Tony chose to ignore for the sake of his sanity, “because I was on the other side of the wormhole and that left some sort of magical trace on me.”

That grin, still. “This situation has not, to my knowledge, occurred before, so I cannot be entirely certain, but that is what I believe.”

How reassuring ... Tony might need another drink before long. “And that magical trace is connected to you of all people how? You been on a grand trip to the other side of space as well? Must be quite the vacation spot over there.”

“I have been to many places you could not even begin to fathom.” Was that a trace of uneasiness in his voice? Uh-oh. Loki downed a large amount of his green liquid. The torch flickered.

Right. Careful now. Best not say anything stupid or suggestive. “Oh, try me. I have quite an active imagination.”

Loki looked at him over the brim of his glass. “Why, Stark, I had no idea.”

Jeez. What had they been talking about again? Tony cleared his throat. “Alright, so why are you after Fenrir? Hel said he had something to do with your magic.”

“She talks too much sometimes.”

“Yeah, I wonder who she got that from.”

Ouch. That beer was really not conducive to basic survival skills. Loki didn’t rise to this challenge, though. “There is a creature roaming the realms that has stolen from me what is mine and mine alone. And for that I would have him dead.”

Huh. This might be the most real thing he’d said all night. “Okay, that I can work with. So what are you doing about that? You do realize that kidnapping me wasn’t the wisest course of action either? People saw the Iron Man suit, it’ll be all over the news.”

“It is. So is a press release that it was a training exercise gone awry, and that you are tucked away in your workshop, laboring tirelessly to resolve the issue.”

“There - what? A press release? About me? You did that?” Loki only grinned. Resourceful bastard. And to think that Thor still grappled with the concept of a cellphone … “Wait. Does that mean you talked to Pepper?” Images rose in Tony’s mind, of Loki threatening Pepper, of Loki even daring to be in the same room as Pepper and …

“Not quite. I wrote her an e-mail. Is that not how the two of you communicate these days?”

“You —”

Before he could think better of it, Tony was out of his armchair and lunging across the table to grab a hold of Loki, maybe bring the glass down on his head and — he grabbed only thin air as the body resolved into a golden shimmer.

“I have no wish to harm you, Stark.”

Tony clambered to his feet and found himself face to face with Loki. Magic clone. Thor had warned him about those. Repeatedly. “Oh yeah? Funny way you have of showing that.”

Loki shrugged. “You’re still alive, are you not?”

There was that. But still. Working with Loki? That couldn’t happen. Alright, even Thor had enlisted his help to defeat Malekith, but surely that was different? Wasn’t it? How many variables had Loki left out or lied about? Too many, probably. How Fenrir had managed to steal his magic, for one. And the best way to find out more might be to play along. Just for a little while, until they were back on Earth …

“Yeah, and I really want that state of me being alive to continue, so I vote we hurry up and get this over with. Tell me you’ve got a plan to catch this Fenrir.”

Loki glared. “Would he still be at large if I had? In the prophecy, the wolf named Fenrir is chained by a fetter fashioned by dwarves out of six impossible things. I have thought about many ways to apply this, but none appears feasible … In addition to that, the god Týr is supposed to sacrifice his hand to chain the wolf, but there is no Asgardian by that name living.”

Now they were getting back to those crazy prophecy stuff in the Viking poems? “Oh, great. Next you’ll pull out a cursed ring that we have to destroy in the fires of Mount Doom?”

Loki frowned. “The Andvaranaut has not been seen for centuries.”

This was getting more ridiculous by the second. “Look, the way I see it, you get me back to the Tower, I’ll run diagnostics, we’ll know Fenir’s weak spots and then we go after him. Or rather, I go after him, because I’m not letting you within two realms of Earth again.”

“Certainly not. I will not be there.” That golden glow again, and instead of Loki, Tony found himself faced with a dark-haired woman in a smart blue suit. Shape-shifter. Right. “Or maybe you would prefer this?” A man now, but with the same crooked smile.

“Oh, hell. Give me one good reason why I should go along with this.”

Loki changed back into himself halfway through his shrug. “Because you already are in hell. And because you have not yet tried to shoot me with the gun you are carrying around.” Whoops … “Finish your drink, Stark, and then we shall return to Midgard. Assemble your Avengers.”

 

#

 

They made it back to Hel’s residence. How, Tony didn’t quite know. The bridge didn’t seem to go on forever this time.

“Your suit is waiting for you at the Tower,” Loki said over his shoulder. “And no, I did not have anyone take a look at it. Consider it a gesture of good will.”

“Charming, how you almost make me want to believe that.” Tony would have to go over the suit first chance he got … or even better yet, never use it again.

Hel was waiting for them at the end of the bridge. “Must you do this?” she asked Loki.

“You already know the answer to that.”

She sighed, before turning to Tony. “Stark. I expect I shall have to see you again before long.” She extended a hand.

Frowning, Tony took it. Her touch was ice-cold, but firm. “You’re his daughter alright, I give you that.”

Before she could reply, Loki asked, “Shall we proceed?”

“Yeah, let’s.”

Maybe Hel said something, but that was lost in the whirl of one realm bleeding into another.

 

#


	3. Chapter 3

“Warning,” the defense mechanism blared. “Missile locked on this location. Warning. Time to release, one minute. Structural integrity of Tower estimated to be reduced by 10%. Warning.”

Tony blinked. He was standing in his living room, in the middle of what could be the next day, or the next year for all he knew, and apparently someone was trying to shoot at him.

“Give me a location on that missile. Give me … whatever is going on!”

Screens popped into life around him. Those were SHIELD’s new helicarriers up in the air above DC. Only next day, that was something. Fury’s latest pet project, for which he’d asked Tony to fit repulsor engines … And which currently had mini-missiles aimed at half a million people.

“Hang on. If Hydra has taken over SHIELD, does that mean they’re using my technology as weapons of mass destruction?”

“It is no more than SHIELD intended to do with these machines, but that is neither here nor there.”

Tony flinched. He’d forgotten Loki had come with him. Bad mistake. He turned around to … not Loki, but instead that guy in a smart suit that he’d shape-shifted into in Brimir’s.

“I shall be your new assistant, yes?” That grin was exactly the same …

“Yeah, fine, whatever, in case you haven’t noticed, Hydra is trying to level this place.”

“They are trying to eliminate you. And everyone else they consider a threat. You should take that as a compliment.”

“Right —”

JARVIS interrupted. “Sir, the missile system is being reprogrammed. Someone has altered the targeting algorithm. They are now set to destroy themselves.”

Steve. It had to be. Him and Natasha, probably. Fury and Hill. They were out there in DC, saving the world, while Tony had been doing - what, exactly? Now, all he could do was watch the helicarriers blow up live on CNN.

“Sir, SHIELD’s secure files have been released onto the Internet,” JARVIS said.

Tony looked at another screen, where Twitter was going berserk. “Which secure files?”

“All of them.”

Oh, great. That was just … great. Did that include … His breath caught. “J, is there anything in it on the repulsor tech?”

“Negative, sir. SHIELD never managed to break your encryption.”

Tony breathed a sigh of relief before it hit him what all of this meant. The helicarriers, down. The Triskelion, destroyed. All of SHIELD’s secrets, out in the open. Instead, Hydra in control. As of this moment, there was no more SHIELD.

“This is the first step,” Loki observed from behind. “Taking out your enemies before launching a full-scale attack. Classic, really. Their ambition, if nothing else, has to be admired.”

Tony was about to snap some angry, but no doubt witty remark, when Pepper came running into the room. “Oh thank God, Tony, you’re here. I’ve been looking everywhere for you, SHIELD is all over the news and you said you were in your — who are you?”

“Lars Lundgren.” Loki flashed a smile. “I am to be Mr Stark’s new personal assistant. Very pleased to meet you, Miss Potts.”

“Personal …” Pepper turned to Tony. She wasn’t buying it. Of course she wasn’t buying it. “We’ll deal with that later. Have you heard from Steve? Anyone?”

Tony could only shake his head. “Jarvis, get me Steve, will you? Or anyone else at SHIELD that might, you know, be in a position to answer.”

“I am trying, sir, but the lines appear to be rather busy.”

“Yeah, I wonder why …” Tony looked at the screen, where the Triskelion stood in smoking ruins. A helicopter could just be seen flying away from it. He really hoped those were some of the good guys …

“What happened, Tony?” Pepper asked, in a small voice.

He gave her the broad picture, in as much as he’d assembled it. SHIELD gone. State of confusion. And not to mention walking and talking Norse myths, but he’d better not tell her about those.

“Okay,” Pepper said. “I need to do press, then. They’ll be wanting comments. You can’t hide in here any longer, Tony. In fact, you are attending your own charity ball for a change. Tonight. The last thing we need on top of all this is more rumors about your disappearance making the rounds. Just … act normal. Bring a cheap date, or something.”

Tony flinched. They looked at each other for a moment. Pepper was too professional to let any emotions show, but Tony saw. He himself was probably an open book and there was Loki standing next to him and —

Pepper cleared her throat. “I will see you at the Plaza at ten.” She turned and strode off.

When the door closed after her, he was alone with Loki. Again. “Not a word,” Tony snapped.

Assistant-Loki held up his hand. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Yeah thanks. So, charity ball. You know, it might actually not be the worst idea to take the spotlight away from the Hydra stuff, and after all no one does party like Tony Stark, eh. I can even give some of the other Avengers a call, those not busy mopping up Hydra I mean, and I can, er, brief them on the situation. The other situation.” Which, on the face of it, sounded like a half-decent plan, or at least, making the best out of circumstances. Bruce could work out an algorithm to trace Fenrir’s residual magic. Which left just the one problem … “But in no way, shape or form am I leaving you here.”

That glimmer again and a brunette lady in an emerald low-backed evening gown with discreet golden ornaments stood in the room. “Indeed, why should you? Aren’t you in need of a ‘date’?”

Tony’s jaw didn’t drop, but it was a close thing. “You complete and utter bastard.”

“I aim to please.” Loki winked. Actually _winked_.

Tony found himself wishing Fenrir would turn up at the gala and start shooting up the place. “Look, I don’t know what you’re getting at here. A couple of hours ago, you were in some sort of magical stasis and half dead and it sounded to me as if you shouldn’t be throwing your party tricks around. Couldn’t you at least have sent Hel?”

That, at long last, made Loki sober up. “No. Hel is the protector of Niflheim and as such may not leave the realm except if the safety of the realm itself were at stake. We’re not quite that desperate. Not yet.”

Tony would need scotch later. A lot of it. “Huh. Okay. Probably a handy thing to have, such a protector. How come Earth doesn’t have one of those?”

Loki smirked. “I thought that was the Avengers.”

 

#

 

Somewhere in between, Natasha picked up the phone. Gave him the run-down. About Hydra and Zola and the Winter Soldier. “We’ve found Steve. He’s in hospital. We’re keeping it low profile. He’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Tony said. There wasn’t much else he could say. He couldn’t ask what was between those lines, either. They’d found Steve, which meant they’d lost him somehow. And he’d been gravely injured. And the Winter Soldier, was that really Bucky Barnes? He’d thought his world couldn’t get any stranger when he fell from that wormhole, but the last twenty-four hours had proven just how misguided that had been. Naive, almost, looking back.

“I’m hosting a charity ball tonight,” he said. “Thought about canceling it, but I guess the show must go on, now more than ever.”

“Yeah. Listen, Stark, there’ll be a lot of SHIELD agents at sea, with the government only too keen to get their hands on them, unless they find new employment, and soon. Employment with an army of lawyers.”

Stark Industries. “I’ll get Pepper on it. Are you coming as well?”

“Maria is. I’ve got something to take care of before that.”

“And Fury?”

Pause. Natasha cleared her throat. “Nick Fury is dead.”

 

#

 

Bruce was running late. He had no excuse. Steve was unconscious, which was pretty good as far as excuses went. Natasha was off doing who knew what. Clint’s last known location was in Europe. Thor was … no one knew.

But Bruce. Reliable Bruce. Who had picked today of all days to be late.

Tony sank down into an arm chair towards the far end of the hall. It wasn’t even as comfortable as the one at Brimir’s. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the paparazzi stalking, looking for their next story. For a reaction to The Fall of SHIELD. When Bruce turned up, they’d never have a quiet moment to talk, unless Tony found a way out of this room … He looked up at Loki, who was standing a few yards away, chatting to some important people and looking rather spectacular in that gown. Oh, to hell with it. Not that Hel would be pleased, but ...

Tony got up, walked over to Loki and flung an arm around her waist. The paparazzi reached for their phones. The important-looking people were startled. And Loki … Loki winced. Hah.

“Excuse us for a moment.”

Tony led Loki back to the armchair and made her settle down on the armrest while he took his seat again. He leaned in and whispered, “Bruce will be here any moment.”

Loki’s mouth curved into a smile as comprehension dawned. This might just be the worst idea Tony had ever had, which was saying a lot, but … Loki extended slim fingers to sneak an olive out of her martini and sucked it into her mouth in a way that should be illegal.

Right. Right. Definitely a bad plan. The paparazzi were loving it, that much was clear. Loki was looking down from her elevated position with far too much smugness. Might as well go for it. It’d give him the imitative for once.

So Tony leaned up and kissed her. So there. Loki made a muffled sound of surprise. Never let it be said that Tony Stark did things by half. Martini spilled over his shirt. Initiative, gained.

He grabbed a side of Loki’s jaw to maneuver and deepen the kiss. Hm. In the distance, he could hear the paparazzis’ excited shouts, but that ceased to matter when Loki started kissing back. Or rather, battling back, because that’s what it felt like, but Tony wasn’t about to give this up, so he retaliated in kind and lost himself to the sensation, the shiver and the thrill of danger and why hadn’t he done this earlier —

“Sir,” Jarvis piped up in his ear. “Dr Banner has arrived. He looks rather … put upon.”

Tony flinched. He all but pushed Loki away. She didn’t protest, just … smiled. Shit. Loki. This was _Loki_ and —

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt you,” Bruce said. “If this is the emergency you were talking about, Tony, I swear …”

That was when the screaming started.

 

#

 

So much for “be careful what you wish for.” There he was, Fenrir himself, stalking down the hall and shooting at people with what looked like ice darts.

“That emergency enough for you?” Tony asked.

“What do you want me to do, thrash the entire hotel?”

Valid point. Having the Hulk wreck the place was bad publicity. “No, just … get the people out, will you? I got this.”

Thankfully, Bruce didn’t linger to ask any questions.

“Well, this is quite the party,” Loki murmured in his ear. Tony jumped. “I might have to revise my opinion of Midgardian entertainment.”

“Good for you.” Tony activated the armbands and stood. His suit would be here in ten seconds. Fenrir had almost reached the back end of the hall. Glass panels shattered in his wake. People were scattering everywhere. At least, the paparazzi had run as well.

“Hey, can’t you just teleport the three of us somewhere else where we won’t make a hotel collapse on top of anyone?”

“My magic is not infinite, Stark.”

“Well, I hope that means his isn’t either.” At last, the suit arrived and assembled itself around him. Better. “Ok, Jarvis, what have you got?”

A blurred scan of Fenrir appeared on his HUD. Still wearing that ridiculous wolf mask. But then, with everything that had happened during the last couple of days, Tony wouldn’t bet on this being a mask anymore.

“Sir, the hostile appears human, but capable of conjuring lethal weapons made of ice out of thin air.”

“Yeah, I kind of got that. Hey there, big bad wolf!” he shouted. “Still wanna kill me? Won’t work out better for you this time. Bit slow on the uptake, eh?”

Fenrir … growled. And attacked. Alright then. Loki threw two daggers at him, which he swatted away. That couldn’t be normal. Instead of looking for retaliation, though, he made straight for Tony. Great.

Tony shot him dead-center with a repulsor blast, which only slowed him down a fraction. There was also the hotel above them to consider. Note to self, book a roof terrace for the next charity ball in case of random murder attempts. Hand-to-hand it was, then. Tony caught the left hand - paw? - aimed for his head and clamped down on it, but it was protected by a glove that the Iron Man strength couldn’t even scratch. The other hand transformed into this ice sword again, poised to strike. Tony dodged beneath it and used the momentum to hurl Fenrir across the room. He flew right into the fountain in the middle of the hall. Well, what was insurance for …

Something roared behind him. Tony turned just in time to see Fenrir ready to pounce, but this time, Loki was in the way, holding him off her bare hands. She stabbed Fenrir right in the heart with a dagger. To Tony’s surprise, it went in. But Fenrir didn’t fall. Instead, he dissolved into an icy-blue haze. Right. Loki’s magic. Including the clones. How wonderful.

Tony turned back towards the fountain and sure enough, there was Fenrir, clambering out and striding back towards him.

“Keep him occupied,” Loki said.

Tony shot towards Fenrir and their hands locked. Fenrir went for the head-butt, but Tony had learned something from fighting Thor and managed to dodge. Icy spikes shot up all around him, attacking the joints of his suit.

“Sir, you cannot hold these weapons off for longer than a minute,” Jarvis advised.

“I’m just … keeping him occupied.” Something heavy hit his head and he staggered, but retained hold of Fenrir.

On the far side of his HUD, he could see Loki approach Fenrir from behind and raise some sort of weapon. Fenrir collapsed. Tony couldn’t let go of him fast enough. Icy spikes clattered to the floor.

Loki brushed a few strands of loose hair out of her face. There was a tear in the left side of the gown, but other than that, she looked fine. The suit had probably suffered far worse damage, and a new one, too … At least, Fenrir didn’t budge anymore. What kind of weapon had managed that?

“Hang on. Did you just kill a magical supersoldier with _high heels_?”

Loki shrugged. “Needs must. Besides, he is not dead. He was holding back, even. He will be in whatever meager prison you can construct only because and for as long as it is expedient for him to be.”

“But we’ve bought some time, right?” Tony looked down at the massive body lying crumpled at his feet.

“Yes. Let us hope it will be enough.”

 

#

 

They locked Fenrir up in the Tower. Why Tony had once thought it necessary to include a high security prison in there, he couldn’t quite remember, but he was glad that he had.

Bruce observed the entire procedure, and Loki in his shape-shifted Lars The Assistant form, with a deep frown, but he agreed to bring over some of his more advanced tranquillizers, in case they worked.

“Thanks,” Tony said. “And just … keep this between us, for the time being? That guy only attacked me, after all, and publicity is the last thing we need, with Hydra’s stint at world domination and all.”

Bruce sighed. “I’m only agreeing to this because it’s you asking. But Tony, do you really know what you’re doing?” He nodded towards Loki.

“I’m kind of making this up as I go along. But it’ll be alright. Just … trust me on this? Please?”

“I do. I will. Just … be careful, ok?”

“Thanks. But you know me - careful is my second name.” Tony attempted a grin. It didn’t quite work.

Bruce took another long look at Loki before he left and in that one terrible moment, Tony had a feeling Bruce knew exactly who was hiding behind this disguise.

 

#

 

For the next couple of days, Tony ran every check and equation he could come up with to ensure this prison was as safe as it could be. It kept him locked up in his workshop, while Loki was down there, watching Fenrir. Tony didn’t fancy being in the same room as Loki, what with … Never mind. He just needed to keep himself busy.

The universe was only too happy to oblige him by providing him with even more distractions. This time in the shape of the Winter Soldier.

 

#

 

He’d let himself be found.

Steve brought him to Avengers Tower, since, with SHIELD gone, there was nowhere else to go.

Tony stood in the middle of his living room, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, and watched one of his Dad’s superheroes talk to another. Yeah, he remembered Barnes. There might’ve been one of those bears around the house, even. Steve had been _it_ with Howard Stark, of course he had been, but the rest of the Howling Commandos, they’d made an appearance in the stories, too. And Bucky Barnes, the rough, but loyal sniper who’d flirt with anyone, yes, Tony had enjoyed that. Much more than Mr Perfect, if he’d had to admit it.

Now, though, he had to remind himself that the person sitting hunched on the sofa was not Bucky Barnes. That was the Winter Soldier, who had taken in all exits and escape routes and possible threats within a second of entering the room and who could, even in this state, kill Tony five times before he’d have a chance to open his mouth to scream. Who’d also had his mind fucked by Hydra in ways that no one really understood. Yeah, real fun reunion, this.

He needed a drink. Badly. He tried to focus on what he could do, that arm, it moved freely like a real arm, even though the design looked dated. Tony should come up with a better solution. Least he could do for his Dad’s old friends, eh. He’d never done artificial limbs before. Huh. Specifications started to form in his head and he longed to call for Jarvis and run a few designs past him and —

His phone buzzed. Number withheld.

“Hello, Natasha.”

“Hi.” The line crackled. Where on earth had she got up to? “Sam told me he’s come in. The Winter Soldier, I mean. But Sam’s got no details and Steve isn’t picking up his phone.”

Tony left the room for the balcony. New York City yawned around him in a slight drizzle. “Yeah, Steve’s been kinda busy talking to his long-lost buddy. They’re here. Both of them. By here, I mean my living room. I’m still figuring out whether that makes me feel threatened.”

“How is he?”

“Your concern for my well-being is overwhelming as usual, thank you ever so much! Steve’s holding up alright, I think, at least he hasn’t had an emotional breakdown even though he looks like he could do with one and no one has started shooting up the place, which I would totally not approve of by the way, I’ve just —”

“I mean the Winter Soldier.”

Tony blinked. “What’s it to you? You out for revenge, or something? Oh wait, didn’t he try to kill you, as in, several times?”

“Just tell me, Stark.”

“He’s, uh, … I don’t know. He hasn’t really said anything. Or done anything. He just … came to Steve, and Steve came here, and now they’re sitting there and Steve’s doing all the talking while soldier boy stares at the floor. Should that freak me out? It probably should freak me out. Come to think of it, this _does_ freak me out.”

“I’m coming back to New York,” Natasha said, in that quiet, determined voice she had sometimes. “And no, it won’t be to kill him. I’ll see you soon.”

“Hey, wait, aren’t you busy doing some cover spy stuff —”

She’d hung up. Tony stared at his phone. Great, this was just great. Inter-realm travel and strange alien sorcerers and literal Hel aside, which he might be forgiven for having no clue about, but now he didn’t even know what went on inside the Avengers. And those were supposed to be _his team_. His hand tightened around the phone and for a moment, he was tempted to throw it off the roof in some childish display of temper.

“Tony?”

He closed his eyes for a second before turning around. “Yeah, Steve?”

“Could he, I mean, we, could we, erm, stay? Just for a while, until we figure all of this out?”

_No. You’re my Dad’s ghosts, and I’ve got enough of my own. Get out of my house, right now._

“Sure. Make yourselves right at home. There’s a whole floor waiting for you, anyway.” Tony attempted a smile. From the relieved look on Steve’s face, it must’ve been convincing. “Nat called. She said she’s coming back.”

That cheered Steve up even more. What had they been doing for Fury all those past months? “Oh, good. And thank you, Tony. Really, I mean it.”

“Anytime.”

He held the smile until Steve and Barnes had disappeared in the elevator. When it dropped, he felt like the most awful human being. The probably greatest thing in Steve’s life had happened and Tony was angry at him because of the shit that Loki of all people was putting him through? Or was he?

Well, he knew one thing: High time for scotch.

 

#

 

Loki was waiting for him when Tony entered the workshop. He stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back, in armor but in a stance that Steve would probably describe as “at ease.”

“Just to make sure - Fenrir hasn’t magically escaped or anything, has he?”

“No. But you seem to have developed a habit of taking in strays.” Loki turned around, smiling. “How fares the latest addition to your collection?”

“I think that one’s for Steve’s collection. And Barnes, I mean, the Winter Soldier, or whatever he’s calling himself now, he’s … well, he seems fine, physically speaking, but he doesn’t really remember anything except that he once might have known Steve and that he’s supposed to kill him. So I’ll have Jarvis keep an eye on him, in case he remembers he’s an asset of Hydra and I’m not on their Christmas list. As for his memories … I got nothing. Isn’t that more up your alley?”

Loki laughed. “Are you asking me to do a favor to Captain America?”

Tony walked up to his bar, poured himself a drink and considered how to play this. And why. He didn’t quite know, and asking Loki for help might be disastrous, but ... “Don’t be silly. I’m asking you to do a favor to yourself. Barnes is an asset. You know, badass supersoldier, that kind of thing? Seems to me the Avengers could use another one of those. And so could you, if Fenrir is about to break out. Weren’t you the one rambling on about someone losing their hand in fighting him? Well, Barnes only got one arm, maybe that’s him your prophecy is talking about. You wanna take that chance?”

That, at long last, made an impression. “Loath as I am to admit it, you make a convincing case, Stark.”

“So, you’ll do it? Without playing any dirty tricks?”

Loki considered it. “I have not encountered such a case before. Let me go and consult Hel. Niflheim might not be the realm of the dead the tales would have us believe, but it is the realm of things irrevocably lost. As their protector, Hel has quite the touch for recovering them.”

Huh. Tony swirled his scotch. In the back of his mind, he tasted that stuff from Brimir’s, Asgardian beer or whatever it had been. “Sounds like a plan. But tell me one thing - if that’s such a handy realm, why didn’t you try and be king of that one?”

A flinch. Almost imperceptible, but a flinch nevertheless. “Until quite recently, I was unaware of Niflheim’s nature. Tales have a rather persuasive force on Asgard.”

“But your own daughter rules the thing, or so you would have me believe.”

Now, Loki just looked … sad. “Until quite recently, I was not aware of her, either. One small piece in Odin’s grand scheme for keeping order in the realms. It is of no consequence now.”

He dissolved into a golden glow before Tony could answer.

 

#

 

Thor turned up with Jane in tow as if nothing at all had happened. The more Steve and Tony filled him in, the more his cheerful demeanor disappeared.

And that was without the whole Fenrir debacle. Amid the Hydra takeover, the highly visible attack on the Tower had fallen through the cracks and Pepper had come up with some story to cover up the incident at The Plaza, no questions asked. Tony was thankful for it. Everyone had enough on their plates, after all.

Barnes was … in withdrawal, probably. Steve watched over him and ate whenever Sam brought stuff up.

Tony built himself another suit. He ran a trace for Barton on a Hydra base in Budapest and didn’t ask why Barton sounded as if he’d seen several ghosts on that mission.

He checked on Fenrir. Apparently, magically-engineered supersoldiers didn’t need to eat. Marvelous.

Most of all, Tony … waited.

It took him three sleepless, scotch-filled night to realize that he was waiting for Loki.

 

#

 

The next day, Barnes opened his eyes and whispered, “Steve? What … My God, what have I done?”

The look on Steve’s face …

Tony opted for tactical retreat and fled to his workshop. For once, he was not surprised to find Loki there.

“So Hel did it. She found his memories?”

Loki nodded, with a touch of pride. His daughter, eh? Of whom he hadn’t been aware until “recently” … Tony had a feeling he wouldn’t enjoy the rest of that particular story.

“This,” Loki said, “at least should give you some leave to deal with Fenrir. I trust he is still imprisoned?” Tony nodded. “Good. But time is of the essence. Your theory about Barnes standing in for Týr is intriguing, but I cannot take the chance that it is wrong. Thus, I am trying to exhaust all alternatives, which means I need to take another little trip. And you’re coming with me.”

“Wait, what?” Tony spluttered. He really had to stop getting caught off-guard. “Why?”

“Your _expertise_ is of use to me.” Somehow, Loki made that sound dirty. “Besides, would you have me wander off on my own?” He winked. Bastard. If Thor ever found out …

“There is that.” Also, it would take him away from the others for a while … Which probably made him an even worse human being, but right now, Tony couldn’t bring himself to care. “Ok then, count me in. Jarvis can keep an eye on Fenrir, and I can have Bruce come and check up on him.”

“Excellent.” Loki grinned. “You might want to suit up, though. I’d advise a suit without golden elements.”

For a moment, before the words “Loki” and “danger” and “imminent” connected in Tony’s mind, he felt a thrill of anticipation. “Where are we going?”

“We’re paying a visit to the dwarves, more specifically, their forges, which are renowned throughout the Nine Realms. Theirs is Nidavellir, the Dark Fields.”

 

#

 


	4. Chapter 4

Nidavellir wasn’t dark. At least, not at first glance. Tony found himself standing at the foot of a mountain snowy mountain, but amid lush fields.

“And you’re sure we don’t have to destroy the One Ring to rule them all?” he asked. “What is this, Middle Earth? New Zealand? Why’s it called the Dark Fields?”

Loki smirked. “This realm is on the same level as Midgard. Hence the superficial resemblance. We have, however, not quite arrived yet. Follow me.”

They made their way upwards. It wasn’t a hard climb, especially not with the suit, and Tony began to wonder where they were going when Loki stopped. They stood in front of a narrow doorway. It was inscribed with square-shaped letters in a language Tony couldn’t identify. Loki seemed to know it, though. He spread his left hand and ran it over the letters. They glowed golden and an impression of them lifted off the stone. A twirl of his hand and the letters rearranged themselves. Loki picked one out of the air and pressed it to the doorway. It slid open. Loki put an finger across his lips and winked at Tony before slipping inside.

Right. Into the mountain, then. At first, they walked down a dark, narrow corridor carved right into the stone. Sometimes, they took a turn, or passed an intersection and small nooks.

Once, Loki stopped and listened out. Tony did, too. He could hear voices talking to each other, but couldn't make them out. Loki beckoned him into one of the nooks and they stayed there as a group of five dwarves walked past in heated discussion.

They looked like the dwarves in Niflheim, so much like Tony had expected dwarves to look that he was almost disappointed. Axe-wielding, chain-mail-wearing, long-bearded, short, but probably rather strong. When the group had turned the corner, they continued their descent.

The thermometer on the HUD noted a gradual increase in temperature. A sound became louder, too. A whole symphony of sounds, Tony realized. Iron clanging against iron, water sizzling on hot stone.

The corridor ended in some sort of ledge. Tony looked down on a gigantic forge, stretching as far as the eye would reach. Hammers of all sizes, from handheld to a small house, ground down on anvils, complex mechanisms dunked the products into slack tubs, everything from swords and scepters via hammers and shields to parts of catapults and golden ornaments for a throne. Bridges connected the different stations, sometimes in perilous heights, and there were dwarves everywhere, swarming around like bees in their hive, utter chaos to the onlooker, but with a set purpose in mind.

Next to him, Loki staggered. Tony reached out on instinct to steady him. He allowed it, which was probably a bad sign. On close inspection, sweat was running down the side of his face, which had taken on a rather unhealthy shade of red. The heat didn’t seem to agree with him an awful lot. _Frost giant_ , Tony’s mind supplied. His HUD told him it was 140 Fahrenheit out there. A good thing he’d built in this self-regulating cooling system.

Eventually, Loki brushed the hand off. “Refresh my memory, Stark. You said this suit of yours can fly?”

Tony frowned. “Yes, but what are you—”

Loki shoved him off the ledge.

Okay. Tony tumbled through the air and narrowly avoided a slack tub the size of a swimming pool. He activated his thrusters, stabilized mid-air and almost got crushed by a hammer twice his size before he located a safer place in the air.

Only then did he noticed that the forge had ground to a stand-still. The only thing audible was the spluttering of the thrusters. Not awkward at all.

Dwarves from all sides were advancing on him with a broad variety of pointy things.

“Hey!” Tony held up his hands in what he hoped was a truly universal sign of surrender. “Don’t attack me, okay? It’s not my fault. He brought me here!”

He pointed to the ledge, where Loki was still standing, grinning down at the entire scenario.

“Greetings!” he shouted. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to furnish me with a chain made of the sound of a cat’s footfall, the beard of a woman, the roots of a mountain, the sinews of a bear, the breath of a fish and the spittle of a bird?”

The dwarves stared at him, stunned. One of them started to laugh and then they were howling, the lot of them; the forge resounded with it so that Tony felt it reverberate in his suit. Loki’s grin didn’t waver in the slightest. He had to have a plan, but what …

One dwarf didn’t think this funny, though. He jumped onto one of the hammer constructions and climbed up to the ledge with surprising dexterity.

“You,” he growled. “ _Asgardian_. I know you.”

Down in the forge, the remaining dwarves subsided.

“Apparently not,” Loki said. “I am not Asgardian, for one.”

“You came here!” the dwarf shouted. “You came here with Thor and the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three and you laid waste to the mines of Hreidmar our king!”

Loki frowned in an attempt to remember. Feigned, or … “You must have me confused with someone else. I come here merely with a request —”

The boss beckoned to the others. A dozen of them crawled up to the ledge and bore down on Loki, who protested, but they had him bound and carried away in no time.

Tony blinked after them. That couldn’t have been the plan. Especially not now that the remaining dwarves looked up at him.

“Hey,” he shouted. “I didn’t lay waste to anything, in fact, I don’t even want to be here, can’t we just agree to —”

Something hard hit him in the back and flung him against the far wall like a small toy. The impact rattled Tony’s entire body and he noticed he was sliding downward before he blacked out.

#

He woke with a tremendous headache. Great. At least, he didn’t appear to be bound or otherwise restricted, so he sat up. When he’d fought down the nausea, he took in his surroundings. A small cell with absolutely nothing in it, not even a window. Only a narrow door. Great. They’d left him with his suit, though, that had to count for something.

For lack of anything else to do, Tony examined every last bit of the cell. He had to do it without Jarvis, but the HUD was still operational. The door merited special attention. No hinges or opening mechanisms of any kind visible. His laser cutter didn’t as much as scratch the surface. Trust the master blacksmiths to construct a fail-safe prison, eh? He might have to wait for them to open it once, to see how it was operated on the other side. There was no way of knowing when that would happen. If ever. Oh joyous thought.

Also, what had happened to Loki? The dwarves sure hadn’t seemed happy with him, which was understandable, if his and Thor’s little trip down here had been anything like the one to New Mexico … or New York. Tony shuddered. There was no guarantee he’d see Loki again, either. Which meant that even if he managed to escape this prison somehow, and the entire mountain, that still left him stranded on another realm. Yeah, just great.

#

They did open the door, and sooner than expected, too. Tony jumped to his feet, startled, and even more so when they shoved Loki in and left him sprawled on the floor. Tony blinked at him, but remembered he needed a good look at the door before they shut it again. He just about managed to get his HUD to scan the outside of the door and its complicated bolting system.

Next, Loki. The bastard was breathing. Barely. His armor was torn in several places and revealed a fair amount of bruising underneath. For a moment, Tony almost felt sorry for him. “Hey,” he whispered. “You with me?”

Loki opened his eyes. Inexplicably, he grinned as he maneuvered himself into a sitting position. “Ouch,” he concluded. “King Hreidmar appears to be of the most unforgiving sort. As if he didn’t have a thousand other mines. But well, this certainly is cozy. And the company is much improved now.” He winked.

“You know, I’m kinda getting the impression here that being caught was always part of the plan.” Or rather, Tony hoped it had been, because otherwise they were _so screwed_. “Look, I know you’re not a team player, which hey, whatever floats your boat, I’m not exactly the pinnacle of team sports myself, but a little heads-up, maybe? Since you’re having me tag along on that inter-realm odyssey of yours? Is that too much to ask, huh?”

“Aw, Stark, have I hurt your prodigious ego?” Loki was grinning from ear to ear. Totally part of his plan.

“Okay, you’re not the sharing type, fine, whatever. You want to get beat up by dwarves, I say, suit yourself. But what am I doing here, exactly? Except stand in a corner and look dashing in my suit, of course. I don’t really fancy being a bargaining chip in this crazy game of yours.”

Loki laughed. “I would’ve told you to take a golden suit for that. What are you doing here? You tell me.”

Oh, hells. This was a game. To Loki, anyway. Which spelled all kinds of bad things for Tony. He didn’t know the stakes beyond a vague Norse prophecy of doom and gloom. Never mind the rules. Or the number of players, come to think of it. Or anything.

“While we are imprisoned here, you could, of course, always continue where you left off when Fenrir interrupted.” Loki rose to his feet, right into Tony’s personal space, within the blink of an eye. Tony stumbled backwards. “Really, Stark? You seemed eager enough, the other night. But not anymore, now that I wear the shape that destroyed your city and killed your friend?”

Oh for crying out loud … “You know what,” Tony snapped, “sometimes, I think that you _want_ everyone to hate you.”

And there it was. Just for a split second, in Loki’s eyes. Something trapped and vulnerable. Right there. Tony’s throat constricted. He hadn’t been meant to see that.

“Never mind,” he mumbled. “You injured badly, though?”

Loki shrugged. He took a look at chains around his wrists, but didn’t seem too pleased with them. “I’ll have you know that these dwarves fashioned Mjölnir, and Odin’s scepter. They rebuild the Bifröst. Their craftsmanship is renowned throughout the realms. And these are the best chains they can produce?” He sighed. “Well, Stark? Have you worked out the door’s mechanism? That one is your department, yes?”

“Let me get this straight first. You let yourself be caught to test their chains? Couldn’t you have shape-shifted into someone who hasn’t tried to destroy half the galaxy to date and _asked nicely_?”

“Probably.” Another shrug. “But this way is more fun, don’t you think?”

Insane. Loki was _insane_. How had Tony managed to forget that? Bad, bad mistake. “No, as a matter of fact I don’t! What the hell is _wrong_ with you? Can you even get out of them?”

Loki produced a key from his pockets.”They are so very careless.” He held it out. “If you’d be so kind …”

“Give me one good reason why I should do that,” Tony spat.

Loki’s calm demeanor didn’t slip one bit. “Because you need me to get off this realm.”

Bastard. With great reluctance, Tony took the key and solved the chains. They fell to the floor.

“And now for the door,” Loki said.

No use protesting, was there? The sooner they got out of here, the better. Tony looked at the door and overlaid it with the scan of the outside. Now, extrapolating from what the HUD had caught and where the bolts were running through the door, he should be able to find the least reinforced spot and if he fired his repulsor with just the right amount, going by the thickness of the door … There. He fired.

Somewhat to his surprise, the door actually did open.

“Alright then, what was step three?” he asked. “And wait, can’t you just teleport us out of here?”

“We need to get to the surface first.” Loki grinned. “In other words: run.”

#

They made it out into the open, just about. The sun was gleaming on barren mountains and lush valley alike.

“That should do it,” Loki observed. “They cannot bear the sunlight, you see.”

As Tony stood there, trying to catch his breath and waiting for the adrenaline to ebb away, he was forced to admit that yes, this had been more fun than asking nicely. But still. He was getting too old for this shit.

Loki was talking again. “Well, this concludes our business here. Let us return to Midgard.”

“Oh no,” Tony said. He grabbed Loki’s right wrist. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me about this prophecy you’re chasing. Because if you’re willing to let dwarves catch and beat you up to get to the bottom of it, and, more importantly, take _me_ along for the ride, then I want to know all about it, and I want to know it _now_.”

Loki gave him a look, long and calculating. “If that is your wish,” he concluded. “Could you be persuaded to seek more comfortable surroundings, though?”

“No, wait, no more random magic, are you even listening to—”

The mountain range had already swirled away. Tony blinked the world back into focus. The library. Of course.

That was when he remembered that his little adventure in the forge had left him concussed; he wavered as he tried desperately not to throw up. He managed, but only just. His hand was still clawed around Loki’s wrist, but his suit had been left on another level of reality, so he could suddenly feel the heat of Loki’s skin. He let go as if burned.

Loki himself looked much better than in the forge, at least. His skin had its usual pale hue again, and the bruises had disappeared.

“I do apologize,” he said. Before Tony could ask for which of the approximately one million things to choose from, Loki raised his hand and laid it on Tony’s temple. Cold seeped from it. Tony was about to shove it away when he noticed that the nausea and the pounding headache were gone.

“Uh. Thanks. I guess.”

Loki brushed some hair off Tony’s face, which was not weird at all, before letting his hand fall down to his side. Tony remembered the vulnerable look in his eyes - it almost made him want to reach out again. They could’ve died, after all. Because of a plan Loki had come up with in the first place. Right.

“You’ve had dreams, yes, Stark? Vast ice deserts, and the world tree Yggdrasil … Do you wish to know what my dreams are made of?”

Uhm … put like that, not really, no. But Tony couldn’t back down now, could he. Not if that had anything to do with the crazy ride they were on. And if he’d learned anything so far … dreams were never just dreams.

“Show me.”

The steadiness of his voice surprised himself. Loki beckoned him to the window. No snowstorm outside this time, instead a dark red sky, sunset probably … Tony stepped closer and looked.

“Holy …”

Words failed him.

Asgard, it had to be. Asgard was burning.

A sea of fire enclosed the golden city. That had presumably been woodlands before it had been devoured whole. At the center stood the palace, a marvelous structure of golden spires, its perfect symmetry ruined, cracking under a hail of firebrands. Warriors tried to protect whatever was left, their white armor drenched with blood. A horn rang out, like a mourning song, amid the cacophony of screams rising towards the sky. An eight-legged horse galloped down from the palace, bereft of its rider, blindly onward, until a large spear ran through it and pinned it to the ground.

The fire moved, Tony realized, but not in a way flames could, there were people in there, the people were made of flames, they were the flames, and they consumed everything in their path as dark smoke swallowed up the last sunrays. The remains of the palace collapsed in on themselves and buried half the city underneath. The ash tree, too. Tony didn’t know how he knew, there was no tree visible from his vantage point, but it had been there, at the center of everything and now it was _gone_ and the sun was gone and —

“And this,” Loki whispered, his breath hot and too close to Tony’s neck, “is how Asgard falls.”

Tony tried to reply. His throat was dry. The horn’s wail still resonated in his mind. Somehow, in the instinctive search for anything to hold on to, he had grabbed Loki’s arm again. He told himself to relax his fingers, to let go. He couldn’t. He cleared his throat. “That … That’s what you think will happen during ragnarök?”

Loki nodded. “I have seen the universe die in a blaze of fire, a thousand times over. And the key to it all lies in the tales that connect Midgard to Asgard and all the realms. One, in particular. It might be known to you as Völuspá, the Song of the Seeress.”

Dimly, Tony recalled a poem by that name during his little bit of research before he’d ended up in Hel. “So some Viking poem holds the key to saving the world. Makes perfect sense, that.” He had to laugh. He couldn’t help himself, even though he sounded hysterical to his own ears. Granted, not much had made sense in his life ever since one of his own missiles had blown him up in Afghanistan, but …

It didn’t impress Loki. He made no move to free his arm, though. “Answer me this, Stark - the last time the Vikings had any direct contact with their supposed gods, that was the time of the war between Asgard and Jötunheim. In the standard Midgardian calendar, that would be 900 CE. Yes? Those encounters were noted down in what you now call Norse mythology. Now consider this: Thor was but a small boy, and I myself was barely born. How, then, is it possible that stories were told of us, on Midgard, where neither of us had set foot before Thor’s exile? And what of Fenrir the wolf?”

Much as Tony hated to admit it, Loki had a point. He looked back out of the window, but couldn’t discern anything. Just darkness. But he could smell the smoke. “Whatever. I mean, this is all creepy and menacing and everything, but if it’s the future and the poem is so important, why don’t you tell Hel to try and find that?”

“She tried. Even Hel cannot find the text. Not even dark energy …” Loki sighed. “Believe me, I’ve _tried_. I have traversed the expanse of Jötunheim looking for the völva who gave the prophecy. Unfortunately, Fenrir had had the same idea. And so did you, as it were.”

“Oh.” That dream, again. Tony’s grip on Loki’s arm tightened. “You said I was interrupting Fenrir and you in there.”

“Quite so. You were interrupting a race to who would find the völva first. Unnecessary, as it turned out. The völva has no wish to be found. But I had gained one vital piece of knowledge. You, Stark. You are _important_.” Loki’s eyes locked with Tony’s. There was something earnest in them. Tony swallowed hard. “How, I do not know yet. When you appeared in front of Yggdrasil, I put it down to an accident, brought on, perhaps, by your little trip through the portal. But on Jötunheim, when the völva herself called upon you of all people … I knew you had a part to play, then. And this,” he made an all-encompassing gesture with his free hand, “is trying to ascertain what part that might be.”

The light inside the library was dwindling. Tony had no clue where it came from, anyway - there was no fire in the hearth. Just as well. He didn’t think he could handle any more fire for, uh, ‘the rest of his life’ sounded about right.

“So …” That hoarseness again. His heart thundered in his chest. “Okay, let’s assume, just for a moment, that I’m going along with this batshit insane theory of this poem telling the future. I’ll have another look at it, even, when we get back. Ok? But in that case … what happens next?”

Loki shook his head. “Your prison cannot hold Fenrir forever. Nothing could. Even the impossible chain fashioned by the dwarves, if such a thing could have been found, would be but a temporary reprieve. I suspect this is why no such chain can be made, and why no Týr has been born. Fenrir will break free. He will steal the moon and kill Odin before being killed himself. And that … is only the beginning.”

That glint in his eyes. Just about visible in the failing lights. Loki raised his free hand to Tony’s cheek. For no reason at all, Tony remembered how those lips had felt on his. He shivered.

“I took you with me to help me make sense of all this,” Loki whispered. “And so that while the Nine Realms endure, while I stumble and fall through them, that for once, just before it all ends … I might not be alone.”

Tony kissed him. Their bodies tangled together, here, atop the smoking ruins of Asgard, with a hunger that bordered on desperation. With your world, all the worlds, in the balance, what _did_ you bargain for?

This place was everywhere and nowhere, Tony remembered, suspended, caught in this very moment. Which suited him just fine. This very moment meant desire, it meant running his hands over a torso free of bruises and scars, at least scars that one could see or feel, it meant moans and gasps and _more_ , it meant drowning in sensation and Loki tracing incomprehensible signs on his skin and finally, for just this moment, it meant release.

#

Tony woke up in his own bed, sore and disorientated. He’d be willing to ascribe the entire trip to Nidavellir and surroundings to a crazy dream, except a) dreams had developed a nasty habit of being real lately and b) his body was telling him a different story. Which meant he had … _Loki_ had …

He flung an arm across his face to block out the morning light. Speaking of which … “Jarvis, what time is it? And what day?”

“Good morning, Mr Stark. It’s 11:19am in New York City, on April 14th, 2014. The current temperature is 60°F and the forecast —”

“… yeah, I got it, thanks.”

For a while, Tony just lay there. Flashes of the last day replayed in his mind, of the forge beneath the mountains, of Loki’s bruises, of Asgard burning, and Loki …

He didn’t have enough caffeine in his system to deal with this sort of crisis. But first …

“Jarvis, where is Loki?”

“Loki Laufeyson, in the shape of Lars Lundgren, is in the prison area, watching Fenrir and perusing an old book.”

So, business as usual. Still. Tony could feel slender fingers ghosting over his skin. Damn it all to hell. Or … whatever.

“Sir, shall I prepare a cup of coffee?”

“Yeah. You do that.” Tony winced at how utterly pathetic he sounded. He made himself get out of bed and over to the bathroom. Cold shower, thank you very much.

#

Steve was in the kitchen. Just what Tony wanted to deal with right now. He made a beeline for the coffee machine, where a cup was waiting for him. Bless Jarvis.

“Morning,” he managed, before taking a deep swallow.

“Hi,” Steve said. “You didn’t tell me you’d hired a new assistant.”

Tony choked on his coffee. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he wheezed between coughs. “Didn’t realize I had to clear appointments for my company with Captain America. Things get busy, you know. What with the Avengers and everything.”

“Sure, I get that. I was just surprised when I ran into him downstairs.” Uh-oh … “Charming fellow, I give you that.”

“Yeah, well.” Tony hid behind the mug again. Change of topic urgently required. “How’s, uhm, your friend doing?”

Steve’s face fell. “As well as can be expected, I guess. Most of this stuff goes over my head, I gotta admit. It’s a good thing Natasha came back, she knows how to deal with this. They’ve spent all day yesterday on the sofa, talking about something or other in Russian.”

It had to be killing him, Tony realized. Luckily, his brain was awake enough now to not make a tasteless jibe.

“Tony …?”

“Huh? He’ll be alright, yeah? I’m sure he’ll be alright. Nat will sort him out. She sorted out Barton, right?”

From Loki’s mind control … wrong train of thought.

“Yeah.” Steve didn’t look convinced, but he did look better. Marginally. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Sure.”

#

Even in the safety of his workshop, Tony’s mood didn’t improve one iota. If only he could put last night down to general distractedness of that vision of Asgard burning …

Work, then. The suit he’d worn on Nidavellir was safely stowed away and not even damaged. There went that task. He could always build another suit, just to be sure …

For some time, Tony browsed through the data that had collected on his screens during the past weeks. Suit specifications, refinements for the prison, some work on the arc reactor, building plans and … Norse mythology. Ah, yes, he’d tried to research a bit. He’d also told Loki he’d look at that poem again, what had it been called … Völuspá.

Might as well. If anything, it’d prove that Loki’s claims about prophecies and imminent doom were nonsense.

#

_The giantess old | in Ironwood sat,_

_In the east, and bore | the brood of Fenrir;_

_Among these one | in monster's guise_

_Was soon to steal | the sun from the sky._

He hadn’t quite figured out which part of this poem he found most disturbing. The ship made of nails of the dead setting out from Niflheim, Sutur leading the fire giants into battle (which he’d _seen_ ), Baldur being killed by an arrow made of mistletoe, the echoing sound of the horn calling the gods to battle (which he’d _heard_ ), Fenrir, tearing down the world ( _wind-time, wolf-time, ere the world falls_ …), killing Odin … and amid it all stood Loki, steering that ship from Nastrond ( _Dead Body Shore_ ) after he’d escaped imprisonment with the poison trickling down on him and …

Tony was shivering. He took another swallow of coffee, but it had long gone cold, and he doubted it’d help much anyway. He’d read the poem three times now, mesmerized. It had a certain persuasive force, with its rhythm pressing onward, relentlessly, towards the end of the world.

Maybe … just maybe … there _was_ something in this prophecy thing. After all, it seemed impossible that the poem would speak of Loki and Thor. On the other hand … how could the poem tell of Frigga crying over Odin’s body, when she was already dead, or so Thor had told them?

 _And what about Sigyn_ , asked a nagging voice in the back of his mind. Loki’s wife? Was that Hel’s mother? Tony ran a search on her and found that no, the mythological Loki had two other children with her, and Hel was the daughter of Angrboda. Her siblings were the Midgard Serpent Jörmundgand and … Fenrir. Right. No. That couldn’t be right, unless Loki had lied about Fenrir’s origins. Which was entirely possible, of course.

Tony’s mind was reeling. What on earth was he supposed to do with this? If it were a technological problem, he’d get to work, as in, yesterday, but this was an ancient _text_ that refused to make _sense_. He should probably talk to Loki, but that involved going down to the prison, where Fenrir was, and besides, talking to Loki —

“Tony Stark!”

He froze. There weren’t many reasons why Thor’s voice could sound so distressed. Slowly, he turned around to face the god of thunder, of whose rage and death he’d just read.

“Yeah?”

Thor looked distressed, yes, but not, strictly speaking, angry. So there was that. “I have been called back to Asgard urgently.”

For a brief moment, Tony could only feel relief. He hadn’t run into Loki or some related disaster. That left the question of where the distress came from, though. “Okay. Care to tell me why?”

“The Allfather has fallen into the Odinsleep.” Thor looked away. “It is feared that he may not awaken this time. In all likelihood, by the time I reach Asgard, it will be to attend his funeral.”

#

Tony spent a good deal of time staring at the poem after that. He did some reading, dug up a commentary that talked about the mythological allusions. He learned Old Norse by accident somewhere in between, so he read the poem again, and again, until lines and names and disasters blurred into each other.

Something was tapping against the window. Tony looked up, irritated. Night had long fallen. And out there, at his window sat a raven.

“Shoo, Nevermore.”

The raven didn’t budge. Whatever. Tony rubbed his eyes. He should probably eat. He should definitely sleep. And most of all …

“Jarvis, patch me through to detention.”

“Connection established.”

Putting it off any longer wouldn’t make it better. “… Loki?”

“Stark?”

A shiver ran down Tony’s spine. This day was really out to make him reach new depths of pathetic. “I, erm, I read the poem.”

Saying that out loud just made it sound stupid. Belatedly, it occurred to him that Loki might not know about the state of his father. His adoptive father. His … whatever.

“I will be right there.”

Okay then.

Tony was pacing before he noticed what he was doing. How long could it take a sorcerer who knew how to teleport between realms to come up a few floors of one meager Midgardian tower, anyway?

The elevator doors pinged. There stood Loki, in his armor minus the helmet, with a thick tome tucked under his right arm.

“Well then, Stark? What is your impression?”

Okay, so they were playing the ‘last night was a really stupid act of desperation and we’ll never talk about it again’ angle. Fine with Tony. He was a grown man. He could do this. He might have an apocalypse to avert, after all.

“Uhm … It’s creepy, I give you that. But I still can’t quite believe this is the future. Not everything written in there can happen, for example —” He stopped. Not the time or the place to remind Loki of Frigga’s death, was it?

The raven outside croaked, shrill and loud. Tony had forgotten all about it.

“Can you … let him in?” Loki asked.

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Jarvis, open a window.”

Tony watched in bewilderment as the raven flew in, settled on Loki’s raised right arm and croaked something else.

“Thank you,” was the reply. The raven set off again. Loki cleared his throat. “The stars will weep for Odin tonight.”

Oh. One of Odin’s ravens. Who had come to tell his son …

Tony swallowed hard. “Listen, I —”

“We should go over your text again.” Loki came up to the screen where the Völuspá was displayed in three columns, Old Norse, modern English, commentary. “You might have to add a few columns. After all, you are quite right, not everything noted in the poem is likely to occur. We should mark passages accordingly.”

“Okay. Yeah, that’s … okay.”

Glad for anything to do, no matter how ludicrous, Tony set to work, marking passages blue, for past events, like the Aesir-Vanir-War, green for “possibly about to occur,” and red for “not possible under present circumstances.”

When they reached the stanza with Loki’s imprisonment and Sigyn by his side, there was a slight pause. Loki cleared his throat. “I know of no person by this name, and I am not imprisoned as of yet. Mark this as possible.”

The text flashed green. “Uhm,” Tony said. Loki raised an eyebrow, so he had to continue, “What about your other partner, then. Angrboda?”

“She’s dead.”

“Oh.”

They looked at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time, until Loki cracked a grin. “Why Stark, it’s rather endearing, this sudden interest in my life.”

“That …” Tony gestured vaguely at the text. “That’s just to make sure how the poem relates to reality. This reality. You know.”

“It is stunning just how bad a liar you are.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. You’re avoiding eye contact, for one.”

Tony forced himself to look up.

There was no malice in Loki’s eyes, though. There was nothing at all. He said, “I miss Thor a lot. I never want to set foot into Asgard again. I want to bend you over this work station when we’re done and continue where we left off last night. One of these is a lie.” While Tony’s mind scrambled, Loki continued, “You can learn to listen out for it. Figure out a person’s tells. The slight pauses as they deliberate. The change in tone … lying is a language all of its own. I could teach you.”

Well, shit. Where to even start with that. “Yeah, you _could_. But will you, really?”

Loki laughed. It sounded genuine enough. “If you want me to, yes. We can start when we’re done for tonight. With _everything_.” He left that hanging there just long enough for a variety of mental images to unfold in Tony’s mind. “Hel is my daughter by Angrboda, yes. A mere fling, the outcome of which I was unaware of until recently. It was the first indicator for me that the prophecy might come to pass. Fenrir exists, and holds my magic, but he is not my child. There is a serpent, too. But Hydra has nothing to do with me.”

Focus on the job at hand. Serpent. Uhm. Hydra! Yes. Hel had mentioned that, Tony remembered. She’d said also that Loki had nothing to do with Hydra, which she’d found troubling … probably for this very reason.

Loki asked, “Shall we continue?”

“Yeah, let’s.”

Eventually, they came to the passage where the wolf’s brood broke free. Loki paused. His lips moved silently as he traced the Old Norse text on the screen.

“From out of Ironwood, hm?” He looked around the workshop, until one of the suits caught his eye. “In the tales, Fenrir’s children are Sköll and Hati. One steals the sun,” he gestured towards the window and the darkness outside, “and the other …”

Loki frowned. He walked over to the window and peered up into the sky. “Stark, can you have your servant procure meteorological records for this place?”

“Uh … Jarvis, you heard the man.”

“Certainly, Mr Laufeyson. Which type of records do you have in mind?”

“Was this celestial phenomenon predicted to happen on this date?”

“It was indeed.”

“Hey,” Tony interrupted. “What is happening?”

Loki beckoned him, so Tony made for the window and looked where Loki was pointing. At the moon. Which had taken on a darkish red color. A total lunar eclipse.

“And so it begins,” Loki whispered and clasped Tony’s shoulder, just before the intruder alarm went off.

#

“Intruder detected in the basement. They’re headed for the detention area, sir.”

“Get me eyes on that,” Tony said, while trying to activate his suit at the same time.

On screen, a man and a woman with wolf masks were advancing down the foyer of Avengers Tower.

“I’m guessing that’s Sköll and Hati right there,” Tony said.

“Quite possibly.”

A dagger had appeared in Loki’s hand out of nowhere and he certainly looked ready for a fight.

“Jarvis, put me through to Steve.”

“Connection established.”

“Hey, you guys mind giving me a hand with those pesky burglars? I’ll explain later, see you downstairs!”

He disconnected the call and turned around to Loki. “There’s not really a lot of us.”

Loki shrugged. “It will have to suffice.”

“And what about you? They’ll know it’s you even if you go down there in disguise.”

“Are you worried about me, Stark?” Loki grinned. “Let that be my concern.”

“And if Barnes isn’t Týr?”

“I suppose we will have to find out.”

#

They met up with Steve and Barnes in the lobby, which Sköll and Hati had already vacated in the search for their leader. Thankfully, Barnes looked up for a fight, gun at the ready. Natasha wasn’t there. Damn. Tony would feel a lot better about their chances with the Widow at their side.

Steve tensed when he spotted Loki, which was enough for Barnes to aim a gun at him.

“Woah,” Tony said. “He’s not actually the enemy. You know, for a change. It’s this Fenrir guy down in detention, some of his buddies came to break him out. You know, the guy who attacked me before all Hydra broke loose? Loki’s kinda been helping me out with that. Ok? _I’ll explain later_.”

“And you expect us to believe that,” Steve said. “Believe Loki.”

Loki shrugged. “You can stand here and argue the point, or you can stop three madmen from leveling the building. The choice is yours.”

“Alright,” Steve said. He didn’t look happy, to say the least. “But we’re going to talk about this later.”

“Certainly, Captain.” Loki grinned.

Now that was one conversation Tony wasn’t looking forward to …

Never mind. They had bigger wolves to fry at the moment.

#

Down in the detention level, mayhem reigned. It was a good thing Tony didn’t employ actual people down there …

Sköll and Hati had managed to override his security system ( _how_?) and were in the process of opening the cell.

Steve took aim with his shield and threw it at them, but the guy, Hati presumably, caught it. That spurred Barnes into action. He advanced on Hati, firing.

“Tony, can you keep this Fenrir occupied while we deal with his henchmen?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, sure. Piece of cake.”

The doors had opened. There’d been no chance of stopping that, if the poem was to be believed. Tony took one more second to acknowledge the ridiculousness that had become his life, before he kicked his repulsors into action and flew into Fenrir. Man, he was getting tired of fighting the bastard.

At least, he’d learned something from the previous encounters - he’d got a lot better at dodging the punches, while even getting a few repulsor blasts on target. Close combat was again the way to go, after all, this time it was his Tower on top of them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony could see Hati throwing weapons around that looked like frisbees. One of them was aimed at Barnes’ head, and shooting at it didn’t appear to do much good, until some sort of ice spire got stuck in between. The frisbee thing gave a little beep and crunched down on the spire, splintering it entirely. Ugh. But at least that had rendered it inactive.

Barnes nodded at Loki, who’d apparently thrown the ice, in acknowledgement, before resuming fire.

“Focus, Stark,” Fenrir said and launched another attack, this time with his ice arm again. Tony dodged. Keep him occupied …

Steve had dealt with Sköll. Hati collapsed as well, a dagger protruding from his chest.

“Okay, guys,” Tony said. “I keep him busy, you take him out.”

Fenrir reassessed the situation and managed to grab one of Hati’s weapons before Barnes caught him in choke with his metal arm. Well, maybe he was Týr …

Loki came closer, dagger in hand. “You won’t win,” he hissed. “Are you listening to me? _You will not win_. Not here.”

Fenrir laughed and split into two. Okay then. One was still choked by Bucky, but Steve was getting to that, and the other produced his ice arm again and tried to attack Loki, who stabbed him with the dagger instead. Fenrir staggered, but that wouldn’t do.

“Hey,” Tony shouted. “Wasn’t your fight with me?” He shot Fenrir with the repulsor again. Unbalanced, Fenrir didn’t dodge all of the shots. Hah. Tony continued firing.

“You’ve seen nothing yet, Stark!” Fenrir shouted back. He fired his weapon, but the frisbee veered off towards the ceiling. Just as well. Loki was gathering more daggers and Fenrir surely couldn’t take all of this forever? A quick glance told Tony that Steve and Barnes had taken out the clone.

That was when the frisbee settled on his right wrist. Uh-oh.

“Armor integrity compromised,” Jarvis said.

Fenrir was laughing. Loki used that moment to bury a dagger in his throat, so there was that, but … Tony tugged at the frisbee with his left hand, but to no avail. It beeped. There was a sickening crunch.

Tony stared at what was left of his gauntlet for a split second.

Then came the pain.

Then nothing.

#


	5. Chapter 5

Tony woke up. Huh. Alright then, the show must go on and all that jazz.

When he tried to sit, he noticed that he was drugged to kingdom come. He blinked at the ceiling. White. Hospital. Injured. Obviously. There’d been a fight. Why couldn’t he feel a thing? Paralysis?

His throat seized up and the EEG started beeping like mad. Some doctor came running.

“Mr Stark, please remain calm,” she said. “You are on a very high dose of morphine. You will be just fine.”

“What …” The doctor was fidgeting. There’d been an emphasis on _just_ and a short pause before _fine_. Something was badly wrong. If not full-blown paralysis, then what?

“Mr Stark, please.”

Tony wasn’t listening. He tried to recall the fight. What had he passed out from? His brain refused to cooperate. Probably the onset of another trauma, he noted with a degree of detachment that should scare him.

His hand. His right wrist, hadn’t that been the main problem?

Tony maneuvered his head, little by little. He looked down at his right arm. Just the arm. Not the hand. Because the hand was … not there.

That was when the doctor injected him with another sedative.

 

#

 

He woke up again. He didn’t want to. He remained calm throughout the doctor’s talk. About the severed hand. About the blood loss that should have been fatal. About how the surgeons had tried to stop all the bleeding. They almost hadn’t been able to do it. No one really knew why he was still alive, but he was.

He’d been in a coma for a week, though. And now, Tony was lying in this hospital bed with only one hand, but hey, it surely that beat being dead. Hooray. The hand that wasn’t there was itching. Completely normal, apparently. The doctor recommended counseling. A prosthesis could be made. Some functions could be regained. He would come through this.

At last, the doctor left him alone. To come to terms with … no. No, no. _No_. There was no problem as long as no one talked about it, until he had come up with, yes, what, he tried to think of what materials would be necessary, how the sensory interface would work, but for once, his maths failed him. The concept wouldn’t lock in his mind. Probably still high on morphine, and anyway, as long as he didn’t acknowledge …

 

#

 

The first visitors were Pepper and Steve. Both looked like their usual composed selves. Mostly. For no reason at all, Tony remembered the aftermath of the fight on the helicarrier. _Is this the first time you lost a soldier?_

“You’re alive,” Pepper croaked, by way of hello.

“Yeah. No flowery obituaries required just yet.” He tried to smile. It failed. Pepper and Steve noticed. Tony wanted to hide.“Is he dead? Fenrir, I mean.”

Steve, at least, managed a smile. “Yes. Yes, he is.”

“Oh.” He would have expected joy, or relief, or - something. But no. “Where’s, erm …”

“Loki?” Steve looked away. “He did something to slow down the bleeding, but then he vanished. No one can figure out where he went. Thor came back from Asgard and … well. He doesn’t know anything either.”

“Oh.” Tony Stark, the epitome of eloquence.

Steve cleared his throat. “So, how’s the …”

Awkward pause.

“Oh, _Tony_ ,” Pepper said. There really wasn’t anything else to add.

 

#

 

That evening, Bruce came along and read him _Science_ papers until Tony fell into a drug-hazed, but mercifully dreamless sleep.

 

#

 

The next visitors were Jane and Thor. She fidgeted in her chair and wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. Thor, on the other hand, was concerned.

“If you were holding out hope for my brother to heal you, I can only offer you more disappointment.”

“Huh.” That was the first time it had occurred to Tony that he might ask Loki to fix this … problem. Just as well. Speaking of whom … “Anyway, where _is_ Loki?”

“I do not know.” Thor looked distressed. Then again, losing track of Loki usually led to plans of world dominations and nasty things in general, so that might be understandable. “I had not even known he was still alive, let alone working with you.”

“ _Thor_.” Jane gave him a reproachful look.

But Tony winced anyway. Yeah, keeping that to himself might not’ve been his brightest idea. “Look, I’m sorry about that, but it wasn’t my secret to tell, big guy. Loki and I kind of had this deal to sort of work together to stop Fenrir. So we’re done now anyway.”

Spelling it out left Tony feeling strangely … empty. Were they, though? Fenrir might be dead, but what about ragnarök? Loki’s voice echoed in his mind, _and so it begins …_

“I have added to your burdens,” Thor observed. “That was not my intent. I shall leave now. Do not worry. You made yourself a new heart. You can make yourself a new hand.”

 

#

 

The next time Tony woke up, Barton was sitting next to his bed. Uh-oh.

“I don’t get it, man. I mean, I’m glad you’re alive, really, I am, but how could you work with _him_?”

Good question, actually. Tony dug around his fuzzy brain for an answer, because maybe Barton deserved one, but drugged or not, he suspected he didn’t have one. There’d been the dreams, and the first attack, then they’d been to Niflheim and Nidavellir and …

“Uhm. That just kind of … happened.”

“We could’ve helped you,” Barton said. “When Fenrir first attacked you.”

Now that was just looking for an easy way out. “Oh yeah? You weren’t even stateside for all I know. _Who_ could’ve helped me, exactly? An infiltrated, now-defunct SHIELD that was busy abusing my technology for those helicarriers of mass destruction? And help me? Really? Like you all kindly _helped me_ with the Mandarin?”

“Hey, it’s hardly anyone’s fault you gave your home address to a known terrorist on live TV. And you don’t even want to know how many threats SHIELD has averted before _you_ were ever aware of them.”

“You mean like you averted this inconspicuous large-scale infiltration by a Nazi organization. Yeah, thumbs up, SHIELD, great job.”

Barton was chewing on his lower lip. “That’s beside the point! Why are you working with _Loki_? Did it ever occur to you he might’ve set you up?”

“No,” Tony snapped. “He’s only known for lying and cheating his way out of things. Obviously he’d never set anyone up for anything.”

“I will kill him,” Barton said. Quiet and determined and _shit_ , Tony believed him. “If he ever dares set foot on Earth again, I will find him and I will _kill_ him.”

He left without waiting for a reply.

 

#

 

In his dream, Tony found himself in front of the ash tree. He looked around for any whirl of green and gold, but there was nothing, except the lake, and the ash. Yggdrasil, Tony knew now. It didn’t look too bad. A few dented branches, yes, and not enough leaves, but resilient.

Tony approached the lake to see if the three hooded figures were there, but this time, he only found one.

“Um, hello,” he said. “I’m looking for Loki. You wouldn’t happen to have seen him recently?”

She looked up, but the hood obscured her face. Still, Tony knew she was looking at … the hand. Which wasn’t there, not even in the dream. His throat closed up.

“Tony Stark,” she said. “You will understand one day.”

“Understand _what_? I’m sick of these dreams, in case you hadn’t noticed. And you, you’re not of the wyrd sisters at all, are you, you’re a Norn!”

Unmoved, she repeated, “You will understand.”

“Oh, so you’re the future one, is that it? Couldn’t you have warned me the first time round? Can’t you tell me something useful? What _about_ the future?”

“The future will never be set.”

“You’re not helping!”

The Norn laughed. “You will understand. Rest now. You will see the Jötunn sorcerer soon.”

 

#

 

Five days later, they released him from hospital. Bless Pepper. He’d have to come in for regular check-ups, but building himself a new hand, well, he could do that best at Avengers Tower. The doctor had expressed some surprise at how fast the wound had healed, but Tony didn’t care. He was out of the hospital, that counted for … well, not for much, in the grand scheme of things.

No one suggested he threw a party, so there was that. Steve picked him up from the hospital, Bruce and Pepper and of course JARVIS welcomed him home. Rhodey was still overseas, unreachable, unable to make a stupid joke, to make Tony laugh in spite of himself. Everyone was trying very hard not to stare at the bandaged arm.

Tony didn’t speak much. Every time he wanted to say something, he started to raise his hands, to underline a point, to gesture widely about, to fidget and to tinker and to _talk_. Every time, he had to correct himself, not hands, but _hand_ , singular, and his right arm hurt from the sudden movement, from phantom pain, from whatever, it just …

Pepper and Steve were talking quietly to Bruce. Probably trying to figure out how to keep an eye on him.

“I want to be alone,” Tony said. “Didn’t you hear me? _Leave me alone_!”

In the end, they did. Finally. Time for scotch.

 

#

 

At night, he was sitting on his sofa, swinging a glass of scotch in his left hand. He’d lost count of how much he’d had. Combined with the pain killers, it made for a nice haze. Well, at least Fenrir was dead. There might still be the issue of ragnarök happening, and there might still be Hydra to deal with, and, lest he forgot, there was …

“Stark.”

“Oh, so you’re still around? Hooray. Well. How nice of you to drop by! Do you want a drink? I guess it’s my turn.”

“You’ve had enough, don’t you think?”

“Nope. Can’t say I do. In fact, I’m having another.”

The pitcher could be operated perfectly well with only one hand and … Glass shattered on the floor. It took Tony a moment to realize it was his tumbler that had slipped from his trembling hand. When he reached down to pick up the shards, pale fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist. Loki was sitting next to him on the sofa.

On instinct, Tony tore at the grip. Loki let him go. Tony lost his balance, sharp pain shot through the arm, he started to tremble and he would lose it, right there and then, he needed another drink, he needed —

“ _Tony_.”

Something cold settled on his forehead. He flinched, but it made him regain his focus. Only then did he realize it was Loki’s hand.

“ _Don’t touch me_!”

He tried to get up, get away, but this time, he couldn’t. Loki placed his other hand on Tony’s right shoulder. Cold seeped down the arm. It soothed the pain. Tony tumbled against Loki, shivering and almost crying with relief and shame and everything.

Time passed. Tony sat there and listened to Loki’s heartbeat, strong and steady. Eventually, he fell asleep.

 

#

 

When he woke up, it was still dark. He was, however, lying in his bed. Still wearing his day clothes, but hey. He tried to sit up, almost managed to not lean on the damaged arm and bit his lips to keep the yelp of pain inside. He hadn’t been alone, had he?

“Loki?”

He shuddered at the hoarseness of his voice. Might actually have been crying. Very mature.

The creak of leather. “Yes.”

Huh. Tony hadn’t expected him to still be here. He hadn’t expected Loki to be around, full stop.

“Did you carry me to my bed?”

“Would you have rather slept on the sofa?” Loki sat down on the edge of the bed and held out a glass. “Drink this.”

Water. Ah. Great. Tony drained the glass in a few gulps. Somehow, he felt a lot better. “Thanks.”

A few moments passed, then Loki said, “You have seen the Norns again, have you not?”

Right. Of course Loki wouldn’t be here just to check up on him or anything nice, of course not. What had he been thinking. Must’ve been all the alcohol. “Yeah. One of them, anyway. Skuld, I think, the future one, in front of Yggdrasil. Looked a bit dented, the ash, I mean, but okay overall.”

“What did she say?”

“The future will never be set. And that I would understand one day, though she didn’t say what, because that’d just not be cryptic enough, would it.”

A low chuckle from Loki. “It must have been something the Norns have told you before. Skuld could make no direct reference to that, as it was in the past … What did the Norns tell you the first time, again?”

“Nothing, I told you that already!”

Uh-oh. Trauma by limb loss or not, it might not be the wisest idea to snap at Loki. He didn’t seem too perturbed, however. “Tell me again.”

“I, erm, I don’t know, they just called me by my names. And pointed at the mistletoe in the ash. Oh wait, so they were telling me that Baldur would die?” Tony frowned. “But he hasn’t. At least, not that I know of. Wait, does that mean we’re back with that prophecy now? I mean, ok, some stuff happened, but we didn’t imprison Fenrir with impossible things fashioned by dwarves, he’s just dead and there wasn’t even any Týr around and —”

Loki narrowed his eyes. “What did the Norns say, Stark? Their _exact_ words.”

“Um. Well. Urd went first, I think, she went all Macbeth on me with the past name, All hail to thee, Merchant of Death. Verdandi said, Iron Man, so that’s the present. And Skuld wailed my name to make it Tonyyyy Starrrrk …”

They looked at each other in the semi-dark.

TonYstaRk. T-Y-R.

“But …” Tony spluttered, “But that doesn’t make sense! I’m not Asgardian! That can’t be _right_!”

“Many a thing has not happened exactly as it was written, but it appears that the basic plot is on course … Which in turn means what I have suspected all along: ragnarök is upon us.”

Tony stared. “You … knew?”

“I _suspected_. There is a difference. I had not anticipated this turn, I must admit.”

“So …” Tony’s mind whirled. “Anything _else_ you have suspected? Anything else you’re not telling me? Oh, I bet there’s loads you’re not telling me, I bet you’ve got a whole line of naive people lined up as sacrifice for whatever it is you _suspect_ , you lying bastard, and yes, lying by omission does count, you —”

“Stark,” Loki hissed. “What would you have me say?”

Tony took a deep breath. He looked down at his not-there hand, and thought about what he’d read, about Thor and everyone else dead at his feet, and the world aflame … “Alright then, Liesmith. Go ahead. Lie to me. Something, anything, I don’t care. Tell me the most outrageous lie you can possibly think of.”

Loki considered this. Then he said, “Everything is going to be alright.”

 

#

 

Things could only go uphill from there. Tony went off to the kitchen and made coffee and toast before he realized he had no idea what Loki ate. Ah well. At least, at this godforsaken hour, there was no one in the kitchen to ask why he was taking double everything, fumbling around with the plates. Thank himself for putting automatic doors everywhere.

He got everything down to the workshop eventually. “You hungry?” he asked.

Loki seemed surprised, but he didn’t vanish into thin air or insult the quality of American coffee.

JARVIS put on Metallica and Tony had breakfast with Loki. Even with Barton’s threat and Thor’s distress echoing in his mind, this felt strangely … natural. It occurred to him that apart from that time he’d been in a coma, the person he’d spent most time with recently was in fact Loki. Huh. Traveling through different realms with someone apparently forged some sort of connection. Who knew? And of course, there’d been that night after Nidavelir that seemed like forever ago now.

With breakfast done, Loki declared that he had some reading to do and settled down on an armchair with an old tome he’d produced out of nowhere. Okay then.

Tony focused on constructing an artificial limb. Doing it all with his left hand was a bit awkward, but at least he could build on the deliberations he’d started about replacing Barnes’ arm with a better one.

When JARVIS started manufacturing the prototype, Tony strolled over to where Loki was still sitting. The book was written in Old Norse, he could discern that much. On the left-hand side, there was an illustration of Yggdrasil, circled by the Nine Realms, and the dragon Nidhogg gnawing at its roots.

“Let me guess, Asgardian mystery tales?” Tony asked. “Spellbook?”

Loki looked up with a smile on his lips. “Magic itself works on a level beyond words. Like your science.”

“So words aren’t that important after all? What about that door on Nidavellir?”

“A crude locking mechanism. The letters in that case were circumstantial, not much different from this.” Loki tapped the picture. Nidhogg snapped at another root and the leaves of Yggdrasil rustled in an imaginary wind. Huh. “But of course words are important. In fact, Stark, _words_ are most important of all. Magic and science may be at work regardless, but without words, who would know?”

 

#

 

Tony eyed the artificial hand with some trepidation. Building it had worked on a more abstract level, but now that he had to actually take this thing and put it on his arm … He took a deep breath and told himself to get a grip. He’d been one with a machine for years now, the arc reactor and the suits both, and now he baulked at applying machinery to himself? Ridiculous.

The hospital had done all they could to prepare what was left of his wrist. They’d stressed how lucky he was that it had healed so fast. Now all he had to do was connect the prosthetic hand and it should, in theory, even recover touch. If this worked, that might be worth a few more patents for Stark Industries. Why not expand some more into the medical sector? And what was he so hesitant about, _if_. He was _Tony Stark_ , of course his machines worked. The connection would hurt, yes, but it could hardly be worse than the actual limb loss. Right?

With one swift motion, Tony grabbed the hand and connected it. Hot pain shot through his arm, but only for a second. He blinked at his right hand. He tried to move the fingers. They moved. Tony blinked. “Man, I am good, aren’t I.”

Loki looked up from his book. Tony gave him the V sign with his right hand. He immediately felt stupid for it, but Loki grinned. He got up and came closer, even.

“It’s just a prototype,” Tony felt obliged to point out, but he extended the hand.

Loki took it between both of his. Tony felt slight pressure. He felt warmth. What he didn’t feel was _Loki_ , but that was ok, in the grand scheme of things.

“Hmm. Impressive.”

“Uh, thanks. I haven’t quite managed to get all sensations in there, you know, probably not possible to create human skin one-for-one, but yeah, it’s …”

Loki raised the palm and kissed it.

Tony shivered. His new hand had felt _exactly_ like human skin just there. “What …?”

“Well, if anyone can figure that out …” Loki smiled.

 

#

 

SHIELD or no SHIELD, there were three certainties in life: death, taxes, and debriefing. Traumatic limb loss didn’t factor into this. Too bad. Tony didn’t fancy explaining to the rest of the Avengers why he’d been working with Loki. In secret. He didn’t have a better explanation that the one he’d given Barton. It had kind of … happened?

His mood didn’t improve when he walked into the meeting room and everyone was there, waiting for him. Steve, of course, and Thor, with Jane at his side. All three studiously avoided looking at the new hand. Natasha had returned, strategically seated next to Barton, who was tapping an impatient rhythm on his arm. Bruce, at least, gave Tony some semblance of a smile. As did Pepper. That was two people on his side, then. Hopefully.

Sam was there, but not Barnes. In the absence of Fury or any other higher authority, Steve had decided that both were part of the team and no one had disagreed, but there was still that small question of Barnes possibly being a security leak, whether he wanted to be or not. Tony should probably get onto that, now that he wasn’t comatose anymore. Steve looked in no mood to let him, though.

But the first to speak was Thor. “Have you seen my brother since I last spoke to you?”

Uhm. _It is stunning just how bad a liar you are …_

“Kind of.” Barton sat up straight. Natasha put a hand on his arm. “Look, I don’t understand the first thing about this magic stuff he’s got going on, so I’m not sure what counts and what doesn’t. Care to specify for the mere mortal?”

Not too much of a lie, even though his recent encounter with Loki had featured breakfast instead of nowhere-libraries. At least, it might buy Tony a couple of minutes to get the lay of the land. Figure out where everyone stood. In other words, figure out how screwed he was.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Steve asked. Damn him for being so sensible.

“Well, I was born in —”

“Fuck’s sake, man,” Barton spat. “Am I the only one getting the impression that you’re deliberately misleading your team in favor of that … that _creature_?”

Thor opened his mouth to voice his opinion on that particular turn of phrase, but was interrupted by the door sliding open.

“Having an emergency team meeting because of me?” Loki grinned. He casually caught the knife Barton had managed to throw before being tackled to the ground by Natasha. “And no one thought to invite me?”

Bruce got to his feet and backed away. Thor just stared. Steve positioned himself in front of Pepper, bless him, and said, “What gave you the impression that you were welcome here?”

“You rather required my help against Fenrir, did you not?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Steve replied.

“Ever the most morally superior person in the room.” Loki gave him another grin. “Or should I say, entitled? Your fingers twitch for the shield that conveniently doubles as your most lethal weapon, now that you do not have your lapdog around to shoot up the place for you.”

“You leave Bucky out of this!”

“Loki!” Thor interrupted. “I thought you dead!”

“Funny how that keeps happening.” Loki’s shrill laugh made Tony shiver. What on earth was going on? “You might want to work on your perceptiveness. And give your brother Baldur my regards, will you? The same for your father. Oh no, wait, he’s dead. Pity.” His eyes fell on Jane. “And you are still by his side? By the Norns, you must have the most prodigious powers, to make the mighty Thor give up everything he stands for after but a handful of days in your company. These skills of yours are well-renowned on Midgard, yes?”

“You are mad!” Thor shouted.

“You’re only getting that now?” Barton clambered to his feet.

“Agent Barton.” Loki swept him a welcoming bow. “What a pleasure to find myself under the same roof as you again. There is a certain value to people who mindlessly follow any order, even it if makes them so … predictable.”

“Shut up,” Natasha hissed, while she struggled to keep a hold of Barton.

“Ah, Agent Romanoff. I would go into the details of that ledger of yours, but then, you already dumped all of it on the Internet, so there’s really no need. How courageous of you. Tell me, is the slate clean yet?”

“Hey, man,” Sam said. “I got no idea what your problem is, but you might wanna slow down a bit.”

“Hm.” Loki gave him a once over. “Now who might you be? A soldier intent on following Captain America in a vain attempt to make up for past inadequacies, perhaps?”

From the way Sam flinched, that must have hit the mark. Loki was good at this, Tony had to admit. He could almost see it, how he used to rile all of Asgard, hitting weak spots with the same accuracy as with his daggers. The question remained of why. And of how much damage …

“Doctor Banner!” Oh please no … “Hiding, are we? Not so brave in this form, then. But do give our mutual green friend my highest regards.”

That hadn’t been too bad. Probably Loki remembered being Hulk-smashed into the floor.

“And of course the famous Pepper Potts.” She flinched behind Steve, who tensed. “Remind me, though - famous for what, exactly? For cleaning up after Stark?”

“Loki,” Tony said. That got his attention. Uhm. He really should get into the habit of thinking about the next step before acting.

The grin widened. By now, Tony could tell it was the mad wannabe overlord grin. Quite different from the way Loki had smiled at him half an hour ago. Heck, Tony’s new palm still tingled with those lips’ kiss …

“Ah, Stark. Aren’t you the most magnificently useful little mortal in the Nine Realms. Shut away in this monument to yourself, tinkering, until SHIELD or anyone else might require you to fix their mess. I do so thank you for your services. For _all_ of them.”

Tony gaped. Of course he hadn’t expected to be exempt when Loki went on a rampage, but had he just alluded to …

“Enough!” Thor shouted. “I have long given up any pretense at trying to understand the ways of your mind, but know this - desist!” He raised his hammer. “Or by the memory of our mother, I swear I will strike you down where you stand.”

On the mention of Frigga, Loki’s grin twisted into something more deranged … and more dangerous. “You’re certainly welcome to try.” With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out.

Well, shit. Everyone started talking at once. “Leave him be,” Thor advised. “There is nothing you could achieve by trying to reason with him in this state.”

“Oh you mean he has any _other_ state?” Barton snapped.

“Yeah, this is not helping,” Sam said.

At least, no one was asking Tony for an opinion. He just stood there with his tingling palm …

Bruce had moved next to him. “That woman at the gala,” he whispered, “that was Loki too, wasn’t it?”

They’d come too far for denial now. Tony nodded and tried to swallow around the lump in his throat.

“You should go after him.”

Wait, what? Tony stared at Bruce, who shrugged and gestured vaguely at the door. Alright then. It would get Tony out of this debrief, at least, until everyone else had calmed down. Loki probably wasn’t even in the Tower anymore. But it couldn’t hurt to check, before he decided to set things on fire or whatever he did when he was … what?

Yep, Tony was totally screwed.

 

#

 

As a matter of fact, Loki hadn’t gone to Niflheim. Instead, he was pacing up and down in Tony’s living room. Okay then.

Tony stood in the door watching for a while, to catch his breath and to see how long it would take Loki to notice him. Neither of those two were making much progress, though.

“Uhm,” he ended up saying.

Loki stopped dead in his tracks and whirled around. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here. You might’ve noticed.” Tony stepped into the room.

“I meant _here_ ,” Loki snarled. “In my company.”

“Oh, just proving once more that self-preservation, survival instinct and me are on excellent terms. The usual, really. You want a drink?”

This was going rather too much like the first time they’d met in this room. Which didn’t bode too well. But seriously, what had happened in that half hour between the new hand and the debrief to make Loki revert to type? Or had he never left it and Tony had just been too … _distracted_ to notice? Oh joyous thought.

He busied himself with his scotch selection instead. Turning his back, maybe not the best idea, but they’d been past those since Nidavellir at least. “Quite the performance you rolled out there, I gotta admit, makes for a change from the usual debrief. You just can’t help yourself, can you? You see a chance to create chaos, you take it. You’re not much of a one for survival instinct either, are you? But you know, I was wondering the same thing about you. As in, what you’re doing right here, right now. Because I kind of expected you to vanish back to Hel or wherever it is you go.”

“I _can’t_.”

The tightness in Loki’s voice made Tony turn around. Loki stood in the middle of the room, arms pressed to his side, visibly fighting for control. Okay.

“Why, did your magical batteries run out?”

Energy rippled through the room. Tony’s hand tingled with it, as did the scar on his chest. Shit. This might just be a sorcerer’s equivalent of a panic attack.

“Hey.” Tony held up both his hands and took a few steps towards Loki. “Just … breathe, alright? Breathe with me. Nice and easy. Yeah? Deep breaths.”

Slowly, he advanced, until he was standing right in front of Loki to meet the panicked glare.

“He …” Loki shuddered. “He will find me. He’s coming closer. I can’t fend him off for much longer.”

He? Who was this now? But then again, none of it would matter if Loki lost it and leveled the Tower by accident.

“Keep breathing, okay?” Tony whispered. Who had put him in charge of trauma care, anyway? Definitely not his division. “May … May I touch you?”

At least, Loki didn’t object, Tony pulled him down into an awkward hug. Loki’s heart was racing, his skin was clammy with sweat … Shit. “Hey, how about you throw some more insults around? Cause I think I’d actually prefer that at this point. Come on, with me, it’s not even much of a challenge, there’s more than enough material.”

Loki made a decent attempt at a laugh, muffled in the crook of Tony’s neck. Hm. Tony pulled him closer and yeah, ok, he was thankful for all of the services, too. They could deal with “him” later, whoever that would turn out to be.

 

#

 

Tony lay on his bed, flexing his right hand. Yeah, it was holding up alright. He had some ideas for improvements, but … Next door, the shower was running. Hm.

“Sir, this is the fifth time Captain Rogers has stopped outside your door in the past two hours,” Jarvis piped up.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m pleading PTSD. And Loki’s not here. Clearly.”

“Clearly, sir.”

Flex, hold, release. No pain. Flex, hold, release. Next door, the shower stopped. Tony sat up, sheets pooled in his lap. Flex, hold. Release.

Loki walked into the bedroom in black trousers and nothing else. His hair was still damp.

Tony cleared his throat. “So, um. Are you going to tell me who ‘he’ is?” No reaction. “Look, I don’t mean tell me your entire life story and disclose all your secrets. You can keep those, thank you very much, they’re probably scary or dangerous or both. But didn’t you say the other day that you were sticking around because you didn’t want to be alone? Fair enough. So you came to me again, and now you're freaking out, and you know what? I’m _right here_. I might not have the best reputation as a listener, but if there’s someone out there looking for you, that’s a concern for me. You _made_ that my concern. And I’m guessing he is pretty damn powerful. Did he cause your little fainting spell on Niflheim as well, by any chance? You want me to go on, theorizing? I can do that, too. That energy that was bothering you, it looked a lot like the tesseract, so I’m guessing —”

“Stark.” The pained expression on Loki’s face made him subside. Loki sat down on the edge of the bed. “I encountered a great many beings during my exile. Not all of them I parted with on amiable terms.”

Tony bit back any quips he might have made about that being inevitable. Instead, he watched Loki fight for composure. Not a sight he’d ever expected.

“One, in particular,” Loki said. “He saved my life. We made a deal. My life for insight into my magic. Midgard for the tesseract. Needless to say, I failed to deliver. He’s been hunting me ever since.”

Okay. No, wait, totally not okay. “That guy … he gave you the Chitauri army?” Loki nodded. “He created Fenrir?” Another nod. “Which means he wants to kill me, too. Plus, he is capable of getting past my security. Well, that’s _definitely_ my concern then. Who is he?”

“Thanos.” Loki’s voice broke on the name. Actually broke. Loki was _scared_. “They call him the Mad Titan. He courts death. He would burn the Nine Realms to ashes on a whim. And he will.”

Comprehension dawned on Tony. “Ragnarök.” Yet another nod. Questions whirled through Tony’s mind. _How do we defeat him? Why didn’t you tell me all this up front? What did he do to you?_ He ended up with, “What now?”

Loki sighed. “I do not know.”

 

#


	6. Chapter 6

Tony took a shower of his own. To clear his head. Or … something. Sure, he’d suspected that Fenrir wasn’t the endgame, and yet …

The Mad Titan.

He didn’t like the sound of that one bit. He had liked the waver in Loki’s voice even less. If that guy was powerful enough to scare the shit out of _Loki_ , then how could he be defeated? Well, ragnarök was supposed to be the end of all things. But then again, Tony had never been the accepting sort of person. There had to be a way.

He’d been staring at the wall beneath the lukewarm spray for too long. A few floors down, the Avengers were probably deliberating whether he was _compromised_. What to do with Loki. The usual stuff. Couldn’t a superhero catch a break in this world, or any world really?

There was also the nagging question of whether Tony could trust Loki. After all, well … Loki. Barton might be right. This could all be an elaborate set-up. And yet … and yet…

Tony managed to get out of the shower. He’d take that as progress for the time being.

Back in his bedroom, Loki was sitting cross-legged on the bed. Looked like he was meditating. Anyway, nothing Tony wanted to disturb, so he tiptoed around in the search for his shirt.

Loki brought his palms together. An orb of tesseract-blue energy built in it. Uh-oh. But Loki crushed his palms together, and when he opened them, and his eyes, the energy was gone. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Tracking spell,” he explained, before Tony could even contemplate asking. “He has his eyes everywhere, but especially in the pathways between the realms. That is how he found me in the first place. Traveling leaves me … exposed, you might say.”

Questions bubbled to the forefront of Tony’s mind again, and this time, the most pressing one seemed to be, _Why are you telling me this?_ He didn’t ask. Instead, a proverb ( _a line of poetry_?), came back to him, _I fear the Danaans, even when they bear gifts_ … Yes, because those gifts were likely to get him killed. And yet, if the prophecy was to be believed, wasn’t he doomed anyway?

After all, _ragnarök_. Tony had learned that on his latest excursion into Old Norse. Ragnarök was not the twilight of the gods, which might imply that the sun would rise again. Not so. It was the _doom_ of the gods.

“So … how do we do this?” Tony asked. In his mind, he heard, _as a team_ … “What does this Thanos want? I mean, apart from burning everything to the ground. He’s got to have some sort of plan, right, cause that strikes me as a pretty large-scale operation. He wanted the tesseract, for one.”

Loki nodded. “He is collecting ancient relics that will help him become even more powerful. There is nothing in the prophecy about them. They are known as the Infinity Stones. The tesseract is one, the scepter another, and the Aether …”

“So we find one of those and poke it until it gives us a solution?”

“Ah, humans. Ever the optimists.” Loki laughed. “Wouldn’t you want a _weapon_ , Stark?”

“Yeah, no. That’s exactly what SHIELD tried to do with the tesseract and that didn’t work out so well now, did it? And anyway, what happened to finding a solution in those old texts of yours?”

“Solutions aren’t exactly my forte these days.”

“No kidding.”

They stared at each other across the bedroom.

“Well …” Tony ran his artificial hand through his hair. Týr. Seriously. “To start with, do you know where one of those stones is?”

“I’ve heard rumors. About a powerful artifact kept on Vanaheim. It is said to affect the fabric of time itself.”

Well, that was something. Faced with the end of all things, Tony would settle for _something_. “Okay then, let’s go to Vanaheim once you can do your teleportation thing again and see whether that turns out to be the case. Isn’t that even connected to Völuspá in a way? I mean, the Aesir-Vanir-War of the past plays a pretty huge part in it as I recall.”

Loki nodded, thoughtful. “You are quite right. There might be a connection. In fact, these are the days in which the war is commemorated on Vanaheim.”

“With everything that’s been going on lately, I’m guessing that’s not a coincidence. Alright then, how soon can you teleport? I’ll need to get a suit ready.”

“Now that the tracking spell is gone, with a little more rest it should be fine. Get your suit. But Stark … you are also required to talk to that team of yours.”

“Oh yeah, and whose fault is that for interrupting the debrief? What am I supposed to tell them, sorry guys, Loki and me are off to Vanaheim to investigate the apocalypse, see you in a bit?”

Loki chuckled. He looked much better than he had in said debrief, so there was even more progress. “I am certain that you will think of something.”

“Aw, thanks for the vote of confidence. That makes me feel so much better!”

With a grin, Loki stretched out on the bed. Rest, hm?

“Alright then,” Tony conceded. “I’ll go face the music. If I’m not back in an hour … never mind. If you need anything, like, uh, food or stuff …” Yes, what? Just how much cooperation were they talking about here? There was one obvious option, but could Tony really … Ah, screw it. “You know what? Jarvis, buddy? Give Loki level 2 clearance.”

“Certainly. Welcome, Mr Laufeyson.”

“There you go. That translates to, if you need anything, just ask Jarvis.”

Loki frowned. “You would grant me access to your personal computer system?”

“I just did. Level 2, mind, so you’re not diving into my deepest secrets just yet. And now if you’ll excuse me, I got one pissed off supersoldier to talk to.”

 

#

 

Out on the corridor, by himself, Tony took a deep breath. The world swirled out of focus for a moment and he had to steady himself on the wall.

Okay. So he was faced with another galactic catastrophe, and a precursor of that had already tried to kill him repeatedly, which Loki had helped him out with, and much as he hated to admit it, there seemed to be something in this poem and its connection to their present predicament, and yet …

“Sir, your heart rate is speeding up.”

_Deep breaths, Tony, remember, deep breaths …_

“Yeah. Thanks. Just … keep an eye on what Loki’s doing with your system, alright?”

“Certainly. At the moment, though, it appears that Mr Laufeyson has gone to sleep.”

“Right. In that case, or in any case, give me, uh, well … Where’s Steve?”

“Captain Steve Rogers is currently on the balcony.”

“He alone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Right then. While I deal with this, run more diagnostics on how Fenrir and company managed to get past security. Some upgrades are in order, I believe.”

“Certainly, Mr Stark.”

Another deep breath, and Tony set off.

 

#

 

Steve was leaning on the railing, looking out across Manhattan towards Brooklyn, probably remembering a time when the world had made sense to him. Or something. He didn’t turn around, even though he must have heard Tony’s footsteps. Serum-enhanced senses and all that.

Tony swallowed, as a prelude to one of his least favorite sentences in the world, “I think I owe you an apology.”

“You _think_?” Steve huffed. Still not turning around. “Jesus, Tony. First you drop this Fenrir on us that you had to defeat with the help of _Loki_ of all people, then you almost _died_ and when you woke up again, we couldn’t figure out how … Well, and when we were finally getting somewhere, Loki turns up again and drips venom all over the place. And you don’t even seem to mind!”

Tony moved to stand next to Steve. For a while, they both stared at Manhattan. Or maybe they were just staring down.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Look, I wish I had an explanation, or anything really, but the thing is, I kind of ... don’t.”

Steve sighed. “I’ve had enough of secrets.”

Ouch. Tony didn’t know why this hurt, but it _did_. “Makes two of us. Well, in the interest of full disclosure … Uh … As far as I know, Fenrir was only the tip of the iceberg. There’s something going on out there, Steve. Something _bad_. And I’m gonna find out what. Well, me and Loki.”

At last, Steve turned around to him. “Are you even listening to yourself? You’re not well and Loki is taking advantage of that.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony raised his right hand, the artificial one. “Looks fine to me, personally. And don’t think it didn’t occur to me that Loki might be trying to trick me or use me. Probably he _is_ using me, at that. But so am I, alright? So far, everything has panned out. We even managed to defeat Fenrir. And …” He stopped dead.

“And what?” Steve looked worried, no surprise there.

“Barnes’ memories,” Tony said, softly. “I asked Loki if he could help with that. He went …” _through Hel_ , “Anyway, it worked, didn’t it.”

Steve closed his eyes. He didn’t like what he saw there. “What kind of threat are we talking about?”

“I’m not really sure yet.” Not a lie. Not entirely. “But the way I see it, you guys are busy with Hydra and everything. I’ll handle this, ok? I’ll handle _Loki_. If you don’t trust him, fine. Neither do I. But can’t you trust _me_?”

They looked at each other for longer than Tony was comfortable with, until Steve said, “I want to. It’s just … After Fenrir … You almost _died_ , Tony. Loki tried to stop the bleeding and it wouldn’t work and then he vanished and you were just lying there, bleeding to death and _I don’t want that to happen again_. Are we clear on that?”

Tony stared, at a complete loss. “Crystal,” he managed.

“And I’m guessing you aren’t going to tell me what your plan is?”

Well, Tony wasn’t about to tell Captain America that the world might be doomed and the key to it all lay in an old poem. At least, not without more evidence.

“Don’t really have one. Following up on a lead, is all. I’ll let you know the moment I got something substantial. Just … bear with me for a bit, ok?”

Steve heaved another sigh. Then he extended a hand. “Okay.”

Tony took the hand, with his artificial one. Steve eyed it suspiciously. Modern technology, eh?

“Okay. Well. I gotta be off, then. I’ll keep you posted as much as I can.”

He could feel Steve’s eyes on his back as he retreated. But still. That could’ve gone worse. There remained the problem that he should probably man up and talk to Thor, too, but Tony decided that was pushing his luck too far.

 

#

 

Vanaheim looked much like Tony would have imagined the steppe in Europe and Asia. Well, except for those black, almost-circles sticking out against the darkening sky. But still. Grasslands, stretching into all directions as far as the eye could reach. No scary cliffs, no ice, no mist, no mountains. Just … grass. Not too bad, this. The city they’d arrived at didn’t look too intimidating either, and it consisted entirely of tents of varying size and opulence. A mix of spices filled the air that reminded Tony of the Thai place Rhodey liked to frequent.

Night was falling rapidly. It woke up the city. People were filling the streets, carrying torches or baskets full of food, logs and casks of probably alcoholic beverages. Most of them were dressed in flowing clothes with hoods obscuring their faces, much like the coats Loki had conjured up to disguise the two of them. Tony didn’t feel comfortable about his armor being stored on some level of Loki’s everywhere-nowhere, but they had come here to investigate, not to start a war. Or so Tony hoped.

Loki leaned in. “Our timing is impeccable.”

“Why, what is going on here?”

“Follow me.”

They made their way through the packed streets. Loki must have been here before, because he knew exactly where to go. The tents increased in size and decor as they delved deeper into the city. For it really was a city, Tony realized. It hadn’t looked as big from the outside in the failing lights. But he wouldn’t fancy getting lost around here. Just as well that Loki’s hand had found its way onto the small of his back.

The streets were lined with torches. Flickering lights reflected off the golden ornaments on tents of all shapes and colors. People were chanting in a language Tony couldn’t make out, punctuated by a heavy drum. Apart from the torches, it was entirely dark now.

The crowd swept them along, towards a large square. People were setting down their offerings on a large table to the far side and throwing their logs onto a massive pyre in the middle. On top of it stood the effigy of a woman with her hands raised up high. At least, Tony hoped it was an effigy.

More and more people filled the square, forming rings around the pyre. It wasn’t lit yet. They were supposed to be commemorating the Aesir-Vanir-War, Loki had said. Tony strained his ears. He still couldn’t understand the language of the chants, but somehow, he knew what they were singing anyway. It was a stanza of the Völuspá.

 

_The war I remember, | the first in the world,_

_When the gods with spears | had smitten Gollveig,_

_And in the hall | of Hor had burned her,_

_Three times burned, | and three times born,_

_Oft and again, | yet ever she lives._

 

He looked around to Loki, who didn’t say anything, just slung an arm around Tony’s waist and maneuvered him to stand in front. It seemed like a protective gesture that Tony would usually object to, but in another realm, staring up at this gigantic pyre … He leaned back against Loki’s chest. In turn, Loki rested his cheek against Tony’s temple.

Tony could feel heat radiating from the other body, through the thin cloth of his hood. Hmm. Investigating, yes. Keeping an eye on Loki. All this relevant … stuff …

The chanting intensified. The drum rose to a crescendo as the people looked up. Tony followed their gaze to a balcony on a massive golden tent overlooking the square. With one final bang, drum and chants subsided. Not a single sound could be heard except the crackle of the torches. Tony held his breath.

A man stepped out onto the balcony. A diadem glittered on his dark hair in the flame of the torch in his hand. His skin glowed golden, too. He was clothed in a red gown, intricately interwoven with golden threads. They depicted the sun and a hunting scene. At his left side, he carried a magnificent sword of solid gold. This had to be their king. A name came to Tony’s mind, from the poems. _Freyr_. No, that wasn’t right. Was it?

“From the ashes,” he called out, and his voice echoed around the square, “the Vanir shall rise again, not once, not twice, but three times!”

He hurled his torch and the pyre caught fire. With a roar, people started hurling their torches, too, until the bonfire blazed. Tony could feel the heat even from the distance. He could smell the smoke. Incense, too. Unbidden, the memory ( _vision_?) of Asgard burning rose in his mind.

The chanting started up again. This time, it was a single word, a chorus …

_Gollveig, Gollveig, Gollveig …_

Freyr smiled down at his people. A spear had appeared in his hands. When the flames had reached the toes of the effigy, he threw the spear straight at her heart. The effigy _screamed_.

Tony flinched. Was that a real person after all? Around his waist, Loki’s grip tightened, keeping him in place. So this was supposed to happen. But how could they …

Freyr hurled a second spear, which also hit the effigy ( _the woman_ ) dead center. She staggered, but kept her hands raised high. Red gown and black hair billowed around her and caught fire. The chants intensified.

Tony had expected the third spear, but he still winced as it hit the woman, too. She sank to her knees as the flames descended on her. The pyre collapsed in on itself and buried any screams the woman might have had left. What kind of cruel —

The unshaped, burning pyre moved. Half-burned logs twitched. The crowd started chanting again, but another name this time, _Freyja, Freyja_ … Tony recalled reading her name somewhere. Vanir goddess of what? Fertility and sexuality, yes, that he remembered. But also … war and death.

Without warning, the pyre exploded upwards. Tony flinched against Loki, but nobody around him panicked, so that had to be part of the deal as well. When he looked up, he realized that the logs were hovering in the air all around the square, glimmering like stars against the night sky. In the middle of the square stood the woman ( _Freyja_ ), unharmed. In her hands, she held the three spears that had pierced her. To one final crescendo of the crowd, she rammed them into the ground and raised her arms again. Freyr had come down from his balcony and fell to his knees before Freyja.

The crowd erupted into cheers. Everyone was yelling, crying, rejoicing, people were hugging each other, jumping up and down, celebrating …

“Well, Stark?” Loki whispered into his ear.

Tony twisted in his grip, until they were face-to-face. This position made him even more aware that they stood flush against each other. “What did I just witness?” he croaked.

Loki grinned. “I’d say … Here is to peace.”

Before Tony could think of a reply, Loki leaned in and kissed him, out there in front of everybody. Tony froze. But of course no one was paying them any attention, and anyway the hoods obscured their faces in the low torch ( _star_ ) light.

To peace. Oh yeah. This quest for peace had changed his life, hadn’t it? Here he was, the mortal human, pressed against a Jötunn, in the middle of a Vanir ritual commemorating a war with Asgard millenia ago. How was this his life, again? How had he ever thought he could _handle_ this?

Well, never mind that. Tony wrenched his arms free, reached up and kissed Loki back.

 

#

 

Tony woke up feeling … rested. Somehow, he found this disturbing. Probably a bad sign and … where was he, anyway?

He blinked up at the ceiling. Red cloth. Vanaheim. The ritual. Freyja’s screams echoed in his mind. He could smell the smoke still, and he could feel arms around his waist …

Loki.

Tony sat up with a start. He was sitting on a bed, or rather a comfortable pile of rugs, in a predominantly red-and-golden room not much bigger than a cell, but at least, it had two doors that didn’t seem bolted or anything sinister.

Well, this constituted an improvement in several ways over the other realms he’d visited so far. But then, they hadn’t really interacted with any people yet they could’ve pissed off. If one didn’t count the inn-keeper, who’d given them a rather bemused look when they’d stumbled in here last night. But Loki had whispered something to her and handed over some gold, which seemed to be a pretty universal way of shutting down complaints.

On the floor next to the bed stood a jug full of some transparent liquid and two cups. How thoughtful. For a moment, Tony couldn’t help but contemplate that it might be poisoned, but then, that struck him as being rather bad for business. So he bend down and filled a jug. It looked like water. It smelled like nothing, meaning water. When Tony took a cautious sip, it tasted like water, too. Maybe a tinge of lemon in it. Alright then. He took another sip. His dehydrated body approved.

When he’d drained two cups, Tony cast another glance around. His eyes came across Loki, sprawled out next to him, on his stomach, partly covered with a red sheet that didn’t go too well with his pale skin, but still. Tony couldn’t help staring. Loki was asleep, breathing evenly, not snarling or planning world domination or anything. He was just … sleeping. Through the blinds, golden morning light filtered into the room, painting a pattern on skin and sheets both. Maybe it formed words, but Tony couldn’t be bothered to decipher anything. He remembered last night, with the strange ritual they’d witnessed, the fire roaring and Loki’s arms locked around his waist, holding him in place, and when they’d arrived here …

His heart was up in his throat. Dangerous train of thought, this. It was still Loki he was thinking about. Mere hours ago, Tony had stood on the balcony of his Tower in Manhattan, New York City, Earth, and had promised Steve that he would handle this situation. He would stay on top of it. Erm … Right. Time to get out of bed.

One of the two doors led out onto a corridor with a dozen doors just like this one. Inn. Sure. But the other led to a small bathroom, which thankfully included a shower. There was soap, too. It smelled faintly of cinnamon.

Tony stood under the warm spray for a while, trying to clear his head. They were here for a reason. They had to find out about this infinity time diamond, or whatever it was called. And how it all related to the Völsupá. And to that guy, Thanos. And …

It was kind of hard to concentrate when he could still feel Loki’s touch all over his skin. It had to be some kind of magic. This couldn’t be normal. Which meant that Tony should probably be worried. He couldn’t seem to find it in himself to care. And he’d never been good at clearing his head, anyway.

When he returned to the bedroom, such as it was, Loki still hadn’t woken up. Hm. Traveling between the realm wasn’t actually easy for him, Tony recalled. He made it look effortless, sure, but from what he’d let slip about Thanos’ tracking spells… Well, better let him get some more rest while he could.

Tony gathered up his clothes from where they’d scattered across the room last night, hooded cloak and all, and went out through the other door. Down the corridor and to the reception, also decorated lavishly in red and gold and black. Maybe this was the norm on Vanaheim, but it struck Tony as pretty luxurious. Besides, Loki had picked this place. So it stood to reason that it came with breakfast included. Well, at least, it couldn’t hurt to ask. After all, he’d survived literal Hel and angry dwarves on Nidavellir. He could probably face ordering breakfast on Vanaheim.

“Uhm, hi,” he ventured.

The lady behind the counter gave him a welcoming smile. Like all the Vanir Tony had encountered so far, on Earth she’d be considered to have Asian heritage. He felt terribly out of place. Not a situation Tony had found himself in often, being American and all that. But she didn’t seem too hostile towards the obvious foreigner, that was a plus.

“What can I do for you?”

Tony flashed her his most winning smile before he even thought about it. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know anything about this place, my friend picked it out and …”

 _My friend?_ Where had that come from? Granted, it was the least complicated noun to apply to Loki when traveling undercover on a different realm, but … It did beg the question of how it all worked, now. Somehow, this hadn’t occurred to Tony before. So Loki was around, and they were trying to avert the apocalypse and having some pretty spectacular sex on the side and where did that leave them, anyway?

“Sir?” The lady was giving him a rather bemused look.

Right. Breakfast before thoughts of dubious morality or potential threats to Tony’s sanity. “Sorry. Can’t hold someone responsible for their actions before they’ve had their first espresso.” Wait, did they have coffee on Vanaheim? Where was the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy when you needed it?

“Shall we get you some breakfast, then?”

She produced a menu and talked him through it. In the end, Tony settled for some stuff that looked like bread whose name he couldn’t pronounce, and an assortment of dips and cheeses and meat that she recommended. Plus something that looked and smelled like coffee. Another thing that existed universally, Tony was glad to discover.

Now that he had two working hands again, balancing a tray was considerably easier. He even managed to navigate the door of the room without spilling any coffee. When he entered the room, Loki was just stepping out of the bathroom, toweling off his hair. He raised an eyebrow at the tray.

“I. Uhm. I got breakfast,” Tony said. He just about stopped himself from gesturing around because yeah, tray in his hands.

“Good. I was rather hoping that would be your incentive for wandering off by yourself.”

The tone had been neutral, but beneath it … yeah, for a moment there, upon waking up, Loki had been worried. Worried that Tony would screw up his elaborate schemes, obviously. Not worried about Tony. That would be ridiculous.

“Uh … you were still asleep. I just … I didn’t want to disturb you. So. Coffee?”

After all, it was hard to argue with coffee. Tony set down the tray on a small table, around which he and Loki settled, on low cushions on the floor that were more comfortable than they looked. And they had breakfast. Again.

This was almost becoming a routine. Well no. It was the second time this had happened. But still. Tony found himself enjoying it. Usually, food was an interruption that he bothered with when people reminded him to, mostly Jarvis, or when he was on the brink of collapse due to lack of sustenance, but this … he might get used to this. The excellence of the coffee and the spices that got up to a veritable symphony on Tony’s tongue helped, too.

Of all the realms they’d visited so far, despite shady rituals, he thought Vanaheim was shaping up to be the favorite. For now. Probably this had realm some more creepiness in store for him. Especially when they would start looking for this infinity thing. But for now … breakfast.

 

#

 

“So, what’s the plan?” Tony asked over the second cup of coffee. “We’re in Vanaheim, ok, and they’re commemorating the war alright, but how do we go about the infinity gem thing?”

Loki grinned. “Would you like to meet the King and Queen of Vanaheim?”

“Uh … sounds good to me?”

“You’ve met them already, in a manner of speaking. They were the ones performing the ritual.”

“Oh, them. They feature in Norse mythology as well, don’t they? Freyr and Freyja?”

Loki gave him a measuring look which was not entirely comfortable, before he concluded, “Yes. Quite so.”

“Something wrong?”

“No. On the contrary. I will have to keep in mind not to underestimate you.”

Tony blinked. “Uhm … thanks? I guess?”

Before this could get any more awkward, Loki changed back to topic. “They are brother and sister, and they rule this realm together, as is the Vanir custom. Freyr sleeps around. Freyja enables him. She can be a terrible tease, too. All of this shocked the Aesir so much that theories sprang up about the two of them having an affair. With each other, that is. Hogun, one of Thor’s Warriors Three, he’s Vanir. The others asked him once, about those rumors. He did not comprehend the question, it struck him as completely outlandish, something only Aesir could engage in. It was the most delightful scene to witness.”

Tony chuckled. “So what you’re basically saying is, tread carefully, Stark?”

“Would there be any point?”

They looked at each other and laughed. Doom of everything be damned.

 

#


	7. Chapter 7

They ventured out into the city again. During daylight, this time, but still hooded. Tony had been worried that it would draw attention, but Loki knew what he was doing - hoods were the item to have on Vanaheim, apparently.

The sun gave him the opportunity to take in more of the city. It looked no less magnificent than it had in torchlight. Yes, the city was built of tents, in a manner of speaking. Maybe they’d be better referred to as “massive houses made of cloth and burlap.” Apparently, they didn’t have bad weather on Vanaheim.

Gold was _everywhere_. Adorning the houses, the lanterns, the wagons, the flowing gowns the Vanir seemed to favor … Yes, Tony could see only too well why there’d been a war here.

Back in the square where they’d been last night, Tony could detect no traces of the bonfire, but the long table was still there, loaded with food and drink in every imaginable shape. People gathered around it, eating, drinking, celebrating.

Loki steered right past it, towards the massive tent on whose balcony Freyr had appeared. Their palace? It certainly looked the part, towering over the square and made of what appeared to be solid gold even in daylight.

Two heavily armed women were guarding the entrance. Loki stopped in front of them and pulled off his hood. So they weren’t taking the subtle approach.

“I am Loki of Jötunheim, and I would speak to your Queen.”

“We know very well who you are,” one of the guards spat. Seemed like Loki had left his best impression on this realm, too. The guards exchanged a glance, before the other one relented and lowered her spear.

Loki brushed past them without as much as another glance, leaving Tony to scramble after him. They passed through the entrance hall, before Tony could discern more than that it was likewise decorated in gold and red, with several scenes, probably historical or mythological ( _was there a difference?_ ), etched into the walls. He thought he saw a bonfire depicted in one corner. But Loki kept up his speed.

They walked down a couple of corridors in this labyrinth of a palace when Tony heard a male voice. He recognized it instantly.

“Why, Loki! To what do we owe the pleasure?”

They turned around. Loki swept the King of Vanaheim a courteous bow. “Freyr. I must congratulate you on such an impeccably observed ritual.”

“Oh, you attended?” Freyr smiled. He wore plain white trousers, but that was it. Tony did his best not to stare. After all, King of Vanaheim …

“And where’s your darling sister?” Loki asked.

“Resting. But we can entertain ourselves well enough in her absence.” He winked at Loki, before turning his attention on Tony. “And now who might you be?”

“Tony Stark. Of Earth. I mean, Midgard.”

“Midgard?” Freyr raised an eyebrow. “What brings a mere mortal to Vanaheim? And in the company of Loki Laufeyson, no less?”

“It’s, erm … It’s a long story.” He was stuttering. Why was he _stuttering_?

“Those are the best kind. Are they not?” Freyr winked at Loki, reached out and brushed an errant hair off Loki’s face. The surge of jealousy in Tony was so sudden, so strong and so completely irrational that his breath caught.

Loki showed no interest, though. It didn’t deter Freyr - he laughed. “It is so hard to keep track of you! You must tell me all about what you’ve been up to lately.”

He turned back to Tony. Uh-oh. “And what about you, then, mortal.”

“Don’t.” Loki’s voice sounded strained.

“Oh.” Freyr looked from Tony to Loki and back to Tony. “ _Oh_ ,” he repeated, as if he’d had some sort of epiphany. Wait, did that mean he now knew that the two of them were … wait, _what_?

“But where are my manners!” Freyr exclaimed. “You are of course my honored guests! Have you eaten? You must eat. Take a drink with me, too. And then you tell me what you are doing here. Follow me!”

He strode off in a flourish of white.

Tony turned to Loki. “Uhm …”

Staring straight ahead, Loki said, “You may safely consume everything they serve you to eat or drink. Contrary to popular belief, they are not taken to poisoning their guests.”

“Well, isn’t that reassuring.” Tony managed a nervous laugh. “What are we doing here, again?”

“Wasn’t this your idea?”

Had it been? Really? Tony tried to remember. It was all a bit hazy. And why did Loki sound so angry, anyway? Keeping up with this guy’s mood-swings was really proving a challenge. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

Alright then …

 

#

 

Freyr led them to a room entirely filled with cushions of various shapes and colors, but predominantly red and bronze and, of course, gold. Low tables with food and drink were strewn seemingly at random. In the middle of the room, Freyja was reclining. She wore a white robe, too. When they entered the room, she beamed at Loki, sprang to her feet and caught him in an embrace before Tony could do as much as blink.

“It is so good to see you,” she whispered. “The things we have heard here, you cannot imagine …”

“Oh, but I can.” Loki embraced her, too.

“My condolences,” she said.

He closed his eyes. Frigga. Of course people of Vanaheim would have known Frigga … Tony hadn’t even …

“Thank you,” Loki whispered.

“Would you look at that.” Freyr chuckled. Tony flinched. He hadn’t noticed him standing so close. “Do you enjoy wine, Tony Stark? What year were you born?”

Wine. Yeah. That he could do. “Sure. I’m a bit behind on inter-realm time-keeping though. It’s 1970 on Midgard, anyway.”

“Excellent.” Freyr walked over to one of the walls, which on closer inspection was a cabinet. He pulled out a bottle and two glasses, and motioned Tony to sit. So he did.

Freyr set down the glasses on the nearest table and poured the wine. Red wine, of course. “Let it breathe for a moment.” He sat down himself, right in Tony’s personal space. The irritation must have shown on his face, because Freyr smiled. “Forgive me.” He backed off a little. “I’m just so curious. Loki doesn’t usually bring friends.”

“Yeah, well, usually, I’m not his friend.”

Freyr laughed. Anyway, speaking of Loki … Tony looked around. The other two had settled down as well, in the cushions nearby.

“I have wondered, though …” Loki was saying. “Have you seen Skadi recently?”

“Oh, _her_?” Freyr interrupted. Fascinating, how such a nice voice could sound so ugly. “Last I heard, she had vanished into that hole of a realm. And good riddance to her.”

Tony frowned. “Which realm is that?”

“She went to _Jötunheim_. Out of her own free will. Would you believe it.”

Freyr laughed. He looked at Tony expectantly, who figured it to be most diplomatic to chuckle weakly at that. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Loki’s strained smile. Freyja was frowning, though. Freyr didn’t seem to realize he’d just insulted the realm where Loki came from. Which he must’ve been aware of, since he’d referred to him as Laufeyson. They probably grew up on horror stories of the frost giants in Vanaheim, too. Tony reached for his drink to to have something to occupy his hands with.

“Oh, what’s this?” Freyr asked. He reached for Tony’s artificial hand. Tony jerked it back on pure instinct. Probably not the appropriate reaction.

“Uhm, sorry,” he ventured. “Artificial limb. It’s new, I’m still getting used to it.”

“You made this?” Freyr looked impressed. Yes, the _mortal_ could make _stuff_. Who knew. “May I see?”

_No_ , was Tony’s instinctive thought. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him. Loki, too, watching him intently. There really was no reason to get upset about this, he’d been using this hand as normal for the past few days, it wasn’t as if Freyr wanted to steal Stark Industries patents, and besides, other people had touched it … This was getting more ridiculous by the second. Tony thrust the hand out into Freyr’s direction. So he wanted to look at the artificial hand, so what.

Freyr took the hand in both of his and ran his thumb across Tony’s palm. This felt weird. Despite all the sensory calibration, there remained a disconnect between the caress he was seeing and the mere pressure he was feeling. Freyr grinned up at him.

“See something you like?” Tony asked before he could help himself.

“Mhmm.” Freyr pressed a light kiss to the palm and it was all Tony could do to not jerk the hand away again. _That is Loki’s thing_ , he thought. Wait, what?

“Interesting,” Freyr murmured. He retained hold of the artificial limb, but ran his other hand up the arm, where it gave way to natural flesh. Tony shivered. Freyr came closer and Tony fought down the instinct to push him away. A whisper, now, “What are you doing with Loki, anyway? He’s dangerous.”

“So am I.”

That, finally, made Freyr lean back and let go, but he was still grinning madly.

Loki. Shit, Loki was watching all this. Whatever this had been. Whatever was going on between Tony and Loki in the first place. But Tony would bet his car collection that Loki was the possessive type. Uhm. Maybe he should have thought about this earlier.

“Oh, leave the sorcerers be,” Freyr whispered, again too close. “Try the wine, Tony Stark.”

Right. Might as well. After all, Loki had said it was safe. Or as safe as anything could be. Tony took one glass with his real hand and raised it to Freyr, who grinned at him. He took a sip. Mhmm. It was wine alright, with a tinge of cinnamon and … and what? Rosewater? Something … alien? Tony couldn’t figure it out, so he took another sip. At any rate, way too sweet for his tastes. It ranked below Asgardian beer in his Top 5 of Inter-Realm Drinks, that was for sure.

“Well?” Freyr asked.

Tony gave him another thin smile. “I can certainly say I’ve never had a vintage quite like this before.”

“It is an acquired taste.” Freyr winked.

Thankfully, Freyja chose this moment to lean in and interrupt. “My apologies. It is Tony Stark, yes? You must be tired from your journey, yes? I will have you escorted to your guest quarters to rest, and we will reconvene for dinner.”

Uhm. Tony wasn’t particularly exhausted after what had been close to a full night’s sleep, but on the other hand … Next to Freyja, Loki wore an expression as if he’d been made to drink this wine, too. Somehow, Tony just knew Loki would hate it.

“Sure. Thanks. That’d be great.”

 

#

 

Their room was massive, in lavish gold, of course, but also the green that Loki seemed to favor. It included only one bed. Subtle.

Loki had developed a sudden interest in interior design and studied the wand decorations without as much as a glance at Tony. Okay. Nope.

“So. You gonna tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to start theorizing again?”

“Hm?” Loki didn’t turn around. “As far as I am concerned, the welcome went rather well. I shall discuss the infinity stone with Freyja over dinner.”

“Yeah, that’s great and all, but … why are you avoiding eye-contact?”

Loki heaved an exasperated sigh. And looked at Tony. Finally. The stare was blank, though.

“It is of no consequence to me, Stark.”

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific here. What is of no consequence?”

“Whom you choose to bed.”

Yeah, right … Not one of his better lies, that. “Freyr can keep his strange overtures to himself. Contrary to popular belief, I won’t fuck anything that moves. Not anymore.”

“I …” Loki forced himself to exhale. Jealous, Tony thought. Possessive. Not to mention insane. In yet another word, _dangerous_. This was the man who’d thrown him out of a window once.

He made his way across the room. Slowly, to give Loki a chance to step away if he wanted or needed to. But he didn’t. He remained rooted to the spot, eying Tony with uncertainty.

“You know,” Tony said, “I don’t really wanna have The Talk about whether this is now A Thing either, but I want to see that look on your face even less.”

Loki frowned. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you even mean by that.”

“Well, you know. Nothing of consequence.” Tony smiled. “But you’re damn right, I choose who I ‘bed.’ And I’m picky these days. You’re top of the list though.”

Ta-da. And wasn’t that the truth. It was the best Tony could do, anyway.

The frown deepened. “I don’t think that I —”

“Oh, do us all a favor and shut up.”

Since Loki seemed disinclined to do so, Tony kissed him. It was returned with force. Mhmm. Definitely top of the list. By a long way.

“Stark,” Loki gasped. “Do you have any idea where this is going to —”

“Nope.” Another kiss. “I figured we’d just make it up as we go along. Worked out alright so far, hasn’t it?”

Loki wrenched himself free. They stood facing each other, at arms’ length. There was a slight hitch in Loki’s breath. Some hair had come loose. Damn, Tony wanted him. He _needed_ to touch him. He didn’t move.

“You …” Loki sighed. “You infuriating _mortal_.”

“Yeah, well. My bad. Hasn’t hindered proceedings yet though. So, are we okay? Because I’d kind of like to know if you’re going to walk away now.”

“No. I mean, yes. Yes, we are … okay.”

Tony waited. Loki drew another forced breath, before closing the distance. Oh, thanks whatever deities there may not be. He might have expected the kiss to be hungry and possessive, but it wasn’t. Instead, Loki kissed him slowly, almost tenderly. Tony melted into the touch. Yeah, they were okay. They … were.

 

#

 

A hand on his shoulder shook Tony awake.

“Stark. Dinner will shortly be served.”

Tony sat up on the bed which was way too soft to be one of his. Napping, when was the last time he’d done that? He might actually have gotten a normal amount of hours sleep these past couple of days. Fancy that.

He looked up at Loki, who gave him a smile. Yeah, definitely okay.

 

#

 

Another guard appeared and led them down various corridors, until they arrived in a dining hall. There wasn’t much in it except for a magnificent golden table, but the ceiling seemed to open onto the clear night sky. Nice view.

Even better, the table was set for three people only. Freyja rose to meet them. “My brother sends his apologies. He has urgent matters to attend to.”

Loki nodded. They sat. Dinner was served, a small army of bowls with all kinds of spices and rice and vegetables, to be mixed to everyone’s tastes. The room filled with the smell of saffron and cinnamon. For someone who lived on cheeseburgers and donuts, Tony thought he was handling himself quite well. He might even get used to this.

“Very well,” Freyja said to Loki. “I think this concludes the pleasantries, doesn’t it? What is really bothering you?”

For a moment, there, Tony couldn’t help but wonder how long those two had known each other. Compared to those lifespans, it really was no surprise they kept referring to humans as ‘mortals’ …

Loki brought his hands together. When he opened them again, green-gold energy rose from them and assembled itself into some shape … a glove, maybe. Magic holograms. Right. Kind of awesome.

“Oh no,” Freyja whispered. She reached out and traced the stones embedded in the glove. Her magic, predictably enough, was red. It wove into Loki’s seamlessly.

“So,” Tony said. “Are you going to tell me how this thing works, or what?” When Loki just frowned, Tony went on, “And don’t give me the whole magic shebang. I figured out your portal alright. With _science_. So, what’s this? Some device to hold the infinity stones, yes? What’s it made of? How’s it stabilizing the different stones? That kind of thing. Come on, I can weaponize and de-weaponize most of anything and failing that, I can probably set it on fire, or at the very least make it play AC/DC.”

Freyja chuckled. Maybe that did it, but either way, Loki relented. “Well, perhaps it is time I granted you some access to my system?” He brought his hands together and drew them apart again, leaving a simmering membrane of magic between them. “Touch this. It will allow you to handle the conjuration.”

By now, Tony didn’t even have to think about it. He touched his hands to the membrane. It tingled, but other than that nothing happened.

“Well, then.” Loki gestured towards the glove.

Tony extended a hand and gave it a little spin. Yep, that worked exactly like a hologram. Nice. He zeroed in on one glowing red stone.

“This is the Infinity Gauntlet,” Loki said. “Once assembled, it will grant the wearer near-unlimited power. It is made of uru, a metal mined and forged for Asgard on Nidavellir.”

“That is the realm …” Freyja started.

“Yeah, I know,” Tony said. “I’ve been there.”

At last, Loki gave him a smile. He went on explaining. What known properties did it have, how did uru work, what was known about the infinity stones, … It took Tony about two seconds to figure out that they were completely screwed, and two minutes to suggest the first countermeasure.

The problem was that no one really knew what this gauntlet could do. Freyja interjected on occasion. She clearly had the better grasp of the theoretical side of Defense against the Dark Arts. With Loki, Tony was somewhat fascinated to learn, it was mostly instinct, but that instinct was _good_. When Tony mentioned he’d like Jarvis to run him some simulations, Loki asked for a couple of specifics and just conjured them up for him.

Before he knew it, Tony was standing there, gesticulating at holograms and arguing, sometimes with Loki or Freyja or both, sometimes with himself. Yeah, so maybe this was Vanaheim, and involved alien artifacts, and potentially catastrophic events, but damn, this was _fun_.

 

#

 

An indefinite amount of time and discarded concepts later, it occurred to Tony that they might be approaching this from the wrong angle. “Hang on, I seem to recall there were rumors about this time gem being here on Vanaheim? Why don’t we go and find that and work it from there?”

Loki and Freyja exchanged a look. “There is an artifact,” she said, “but it is well protected. To breach the barrier would be to alert other parties to its presence.”

“Well, if there are rumors, then they probably know it’s here anyway. What do you want them to do instead, burn a couple of villages for fun and leverage?”

“That has already happened. They’re looking everywhere.”

“What?” Loki sat up straighter. Which was saying something, with him. “Why do I only hear of this now?”

Freyja looked away. “I didn’t … They are led by the Other.”

Loki flinched. He clenched his fists, too. Uh-oh.

“The other what?” Tony asked.

“Nothing. Just … The Other,” Freyja said.

“I would look at this artifact.” Loki’s voice sounded so _tense_ , so carefully guarded against simmering _rage_ , that Tony’s breath caught. He only just stopped himself from reaching out. “I need to ascertain whether it is in fact an Infinity Stone. Stark is quite right. It can only be a matter of time until … until he locates it.”

“Very well,” Freyja conceded. “Follow me.”

“Oh, and …” Loki waved his right hand. The portable Iron Man case appeared in front of him. “You might want to suit up.”

 

#

 

Freyja teleported them out of the palace. Well, it made sense to keep potentially dangerous artifacts well away from your capital.

“Fólkvangr,” she explained. “This is my land.”

A meadow, to be precise, with red grass rustling in the wind. It was almost dark out here, probably halfway around Vanaheim, and the moon hung low over the ruins of a castle in the distance. Lights moved among the grass as well. It took Tony a moment to realize they were fireflies.

“I’m afraid we will have to walk the rest of the way.” Freyja pointed at the castle. “There is ancient magic in this place.”

_Tread carefully_ , she didn’t say. Tony gulped.

“What happened to that castle?” he asked Loki as they made their way across the meadow after Freyja.

“It was a gift from Odin, for the protection of this realm,” was all Loki said. He still sounded far too tense, but contrary to popular belief, Tony actually knew when to shut the fuck up. Sometimes, anyway.

He kept his eyes fixed on the castle as they wandered on. He didn’t know how, and maybe it was his imagination, but something was off about this place. He could feel it. _Ancient magic …_ His artificial hand, inside the suit, tingled with it.

It didn’t take that long to reach the castle. Broken walls of black stone rose towards the moon. Where they even still on Vanaheim? Maybe this was Freyja’s take on everywhere-nowhere. Sure seemed a convenient place to hide stuff.

Amid the ruins, the gate stood tall, with massive creatures carved to either side of it. On closer inspection, they resembled … boars?

Red energy gathered in Freyja’s palms and she blew it upwards at the boars. Their eyes flashed red for a second which, yeah, not creepy at all, and the gate swung open onto a darkened courtyard. Freyja beckoned them along, towards a tower in the middle, the keep.

The air rippled with … something.

“They’re looking,” Freyja said. “We should not have breached the perimeter.”

“Let them come.” A dagger flashed in Loki’s hand.

Tony quietly recalibrated his sensors to scan for the tesseract’s gamma ray radiation, and anything else SHIELD had ever encountered.

They went inside the keep without crossing any more magical barriers, or at least none Tony could see or feel. Down a few dark corridors, until they arrived in a large hall that was completely empty, save for one object suspended mid-air in a bubble of reddish magic. It had about the size and the shape of a head and … Tony squinted as his HUD zoomed in. Oh. It _was_ a head.

Next to him, Loki drew a sharp breath. “How did you come by this?”

“Odin gave it to me,” Freyja said. “For safekeeping. Last month, in fact. He must have foreseen …”

Loki stalked off towards the head. Tony hurried after him. “Hey, what is that? Or rather, who _was_ that?”

“Mimir. An uncle of Odin. He was once presented to the Vanir as a hostage, and he gave sage counsel, until they didn’t like what he said anymore … So they beheaded him and set this back to Odin.”

All part of the myth, not exactly as he’d read, but still, in some way … which meant Tony had to ask, “Does it … does he still … talk?”

“Not that I know of.”

They were standing in front of the severed head now, with Freyja close behind them. Gray eyes gazed into nothingness. The head was entirely bald, too. No wrinkles either. Tony stared, transfixed.

That was when the head opened his mouth. Okay.

“Remember,” said a dark, guttural voice that resonated from everywhere around the hall. “Focus. On what is. Important.”

The jaw dropped down further than should humanly possible, and revealed a small red stone. It flashed so bright Tony had to close his eyes inside the HUD. Was that the time gem? What could it do? Send them backwards or forwards in time to go Butterfly Effect on the world? Was _that_ how they were supposed to avert ragnarök?

When Tony could see again, Mimir had closed his mouth. Loki and Freyja were still blinking at the fading light, so they didn’t have the stone either. Where …?

Mimir swallowed something down his non-existent throat. Uh-oh … The magic that held the head suspended started to pulsate, stronger and stronger, pushing further outward, until all energy converged inward on Mimir’s head and — shit.

On sheer instinct, Tony pushed Loki out of the way and his suit into the path of the explosion. The energy hit him hard in his back and threw him to the floor.

Above them, the energy blast dispersed. Tony sprang to his feet and looked around. Freyja had conjured up a protective shield of her own, so she was ok. And Mimir … Mimir was gone.

Tony turned around to Loki to, yes, what, offer him a hand? But Loki had already clambered to his feet and was, in fact, glaring at Tony. “I do not require your protection, Stark,” he hissed.

“Oh, excuse _me_ ,” Tony snapped. But he couldn’t find the strength to argue this point. “So, anyway, what just went down here? Where’s the time gem?”

“Gone.” Loki dusted off his armor. “We must have triggered a protective mechanism conceived by Odin to ensure no one but him would lay a hand on it once it had left his care.”

Freyja walked over to them. She looked fairly pissed off. “Yes, well done, you. It’s not like this artifact could have been useful in any way!”

“Uhm … It’s not so bad, is it?” Tony ventured. “At least, this way Tha … I mean, _he_ can’t get his hands on it either.”

“Yes. There is that.” Loki sighed. “We should leave. This is not a place to linger.”

There would be no argument from Tony about that. They made their way back outside. Well, on the up-side, no Infinity Gauntlet with near-ultimate power? It was probably bad enough without just a couple of stones, though. Almost ultimate power, maybe. Definitely bad enough. And what about Mimir’s words? _Focus on what is important …_

Tony almost slammed into Loki, who had stopped just outside in the courtyard. Company? Tony peered over Loki’s shoulder. Were those … Chitauri? Seriously? And their leader, who was that, some … hooded person in pale blue with a few golden ornaments.

Loki almost took a step backwards. Tony only noticed because he was standing so close. Presumably, they’d just encountered “the Other.” Some henchman of Thanos, then. No biggie …

The slanting mouth of the Other twisted into some approximation of a smile. “Why, Asgardian. Or should that be, Jötunn? You come back to me of your own account? With the goddess of war and the mortal who destroyed the Chitauri fleet? What is this, some pathetic attempt at redeeming your failure?”

Tony’s heart sunk. No, those Chitauri definitely didn’t seem happy at his sight. He hadn’t forgotten, after all, how the gigantic spaceship had exploded on the other side of the galaxy and … and had the Other just suggested that Loki had sold them out? And there’d been no immediate denial? Uhm, no?

A beat passed, two, with the tableau frozen in time and place, the Other and a dozen or so Chitauri opposite Loki, Freyja and Tony.

It was Loki who moved first, drawing his knives and hurling two at the Other, who swatted them away. Loki threw himself at the Other. Yeah, nothing Tony wanted to get between.

Instead, Chitauri! He fired up his repulsors and shot two that were trying to help the Other. That, at least, made the Chitauri remember him, and what he’d done, so they changed strategy and descended on him. Hooray.

At least, Freyja was still standing next to him. “Those were the creatures Loki was given to invade Earth? This should be fun.”

For a moment there, Tony had to laugh. Then the first Chitauri was up there in his face and he had to start shooting repulsor blasts again. To his other side, he could see Freyja take out three Chitauri at once with a blast of red magic. They fought in numbers, Tony remembered. One in itself wasn’t actually that hard to kill, and there’d only been a dozen, of which he and Freyja made short work.

That left them with just one problem …

Loki and the Other were caught up in their fight. Just now, Loki buried a dagger in the Other’s heart, only for the bastard to disappear, reappear behind him and bring down some sort of staff on his head. Loki went down to one knee, panting.

Tony made a step forward, but Freyja caught his arm. “Don’t.”

“But that creature might kill him!”

“Maybe. But it is still his fight. Do not intervene.”

Not the sort of logic Tony subscribed to, but that hand on his arm was holding on tight. Damn it.

Loki managed to evade the impending blow by rolling to the side and somehow ending up on his feet at the end of it. His armor was torn in several places, though. Tony could see blood. He already looked worse than anything the dwarves or even the Hulk had done to him. On instinct, Tony tore at his restraint, but Freyja held on fast.

“Is that all?” the Other mocked. “I am not surprised, then, that you failed in your simple task! I am only surprised that HE entrusted you with anything in the first place! That HE didn’t let you die when you were drifting through the nothingness! It would have been an act of mercy!”

Loki took a deep breath. He was composing himself before launching another attack, Tony could tell. His hand tingled. Oh, shit.

Magic exploded outward. Tony blinked at the invisible barrier that had kept it from slamming into him. Freyja’s shield.

The Other had crashed into one of the castle walls. Loki advanced, with energy rippling around him. “Yes,” he snapped, “it was indeed rather surprising, that he let me live. It will turn out to be the gravest mistake he has ever made.”

Another blast of pure energy hit the Other in the chest. The wall trembled, on the brink of collapse.

“And it will be his last.”

Loki raised his palms and brought them down again, which made a good part of the wall collapse on top of the Other.

“You _will not_ _win_.”

That’s what Loki had said to Fenrir, too. No matter what else Loki might or might not have told him, this … this was _real_. Tony shivered.

A blue box appeared in Loki’s hands. Tony recognized it from Thor’s tales. Some Jötunn artifact with a fancy name. Wasn’t that supposed to be safe on Asgard? Either way, Loki aimed it at the collapsed wall and froze the entire thing solid.

It also made him turn … blue. Tony stared. Jötunn. Right. Like Byleist, the actual brother. Dark blue skin with black markings, dark red hair and those eyes … those eyes were blazing with red-hot rage. Next to Tony, Freyja gasped.

The box vanished. Loki’s appearance slowly reverted to the usual. But the rage in his eyes remained. Energy formed between his hands, a pulsating green sphere that he cast wide onto the frozen wall. It grew and grew until it engulfed the entire pile, and the Other beneath it.

“This is my offering to Mistress Death,” Loki hissed.

He crunched his hands together. The sphere descended on the ice pile, closer and closer and … the energy exploded outward, or inward, or simply _everywhere_ , in a flash of green light.

When Tony could see again, the wall was … gone. All of it. The castle just gaped wide open to one side. A few scorched marks on the ground were all that remained.

And Loki. He stood in the middle of the courtyard, with his back to Tony, breathing heavily. Before Tony could think of anything to do or say, Loki took a step, and another, and … vanished into thin air.

Tony blinked at the scenery. Holy shit. He turned to Freyja. “Where did he go? Do you know? Can you get me there?”

“No. I won’t.” Freyja looked pale, but her voice allowed for no objections.

“I can’t just leave him to stalk off like this, he might —”

“Hurt someone? You, for instance?”

“No, he might hurt _himself_.” Tony threw up his faceplate to glare at Freyja.

She sighed. “Do you know what he is known as, on Vanaheim? Rather similar to Midgard, I imagine, we call him God of Chaos. He likes it. But do you know what the problem is with that? For Loki? Chaos cannot be ruled. Chaos cannot have a _god_. I think he forgets, sometimes. Or most of the time, even. Until … well. Until it hits him, and when it does, it’s usually not pretty.”

In his mind, Tony saw Loki crawl up the few stairs in the Tower’s living room, trying to get away from the Avengers, but unable to actually flee after that little incident with the Hulk. On the other hand, was that really why Loki hadn’t made any decent attempt at escaping? It had bugged Tony back then, he recalled. Why Loki had looked so calm, on his way to face Odin’s justice.

Considering, now, Tony thought maybe that had been Loki’s opportunity to gather his wits about him, in a place where Thanos couldn’t get at him easily, and to bide his time until some opportunity presented itself …

Freyja chuckled. What was so funny about this situation?

“It is quite amazing,” she said. “He laid waste to your realm, and just now he tore a being apart with the sheer force of his magic and his rage and yet you long for his company.”

Right. It wasn’t like Tony had forgotten. He wasn’t even too shocked at what he’d just witnessed. What he’d heard was a different matter though ( _you will not win_ ), and … and … “Yeah, well. I’ve never been big on survival instincts.”

Freyja smiled. “Let us return to the palace. Go back to your quarters. If I have judged your relationship correctly, he will return to you when he’s able to face it. Soon, I should think. And I’m not often wrong about these things.”

Tony had kind of lost her at “your relationship” because, well, _relationship_ might be putting it a bit strongly, and besides — but he nodded at her. Guest quarters. Yes. As long as they had some sort of room service. Because if Tony knew one thing … he was dying for a drink.

 

#


	8. Chapter 8

Turned out Freyja wasn’t wrong about drink choices, at least. Tony didn’t know exactly what it was he found on the couch table, but it almost tasted like scotch. Good one. He might try and remember to thank her later.

He poured another drink. His eyes inevitably wandered over to the other side of the room. Someone had changed the bedding in their absence, which Tony found slightly disappointing. As he settled on pristine green satin, he noted a distinct absence of the faint smell of leather and fresh snow. In other words, Loki. Oh, shit. Tony wasn’t pining, was he? After an insane criminal who’d once tried to kill him and with whom he had spent, what, in total, discounting the early dreams … three weeks?

Tony remembered how it had all started, with the Norns and Fenrir’s attack and Niflheim and … It felt like he’d known Loki forever. And of course he hadn’t. Freyja had, by the sound and looks of it. But Tony, what did he know, at the end of the day?

 _Hello, issues, my old friends_ , he thought. Some more scotch-like stuff, maybe …

The door opened and Loki walked in. Tony froze, for no good reason. He remained sitting on the bed. Loki remained standing in the middle of the room. At least, he didn’t look like death warmed over anymore. No more open wounds or torn armor, for one.

Loki cleared his throat. “You’re still here.”

“Where else am I supposed to be? I’m not the one who can teleport from realm to realm.”

“You could have asked Freyja to send you back to Midgard.”

Maybe. Yeah. That could have occurred to him. But actually, no, that wasn’t an option. “And then who’d figure out this ragnarök thing with you, eh? Seems to me it’s a lot more complicated than it looks.”

Loki regarded him for a moment longer. “Very well.” He turned and made for the door.

Tony felt cold. “Wait, where are you going?”

“I feel no desire to be touched tonight. Therefore, I am seeking alternative lodgings.”

“No!” Tony spluttered, just to stop Loki from leaving. After all, and despite everything, Loki had come _here_. “I mean, you don’t have to. This bed’s huge, you know. I’ll behave, I promise. I can sleep on the sofa as well. Or if you don’t fancy staying on Vanaheim, be my guest and teleport us wherever, just … let me be there for you?”

Wait, where had _that_ come from? There was no taking it back, though. Loki stood there, as he always did, back straight, chin up, hands curled together … and yet, Tony could tell, it was a carefully constructed pose, due to collapse at any moment, like that majestic, but crumbling wall …

“Fine,” Loki concluded. Tony breathed a sigh of relief as Vanaheim swirled out of focus.

Where would they end up … Ah. The library. Of course. Loki had already stalked out through the door. Tony followed and found himself small, dimly-lit bedroom. Most of the space was taken up by an enormous four-poster bed with a green canopy and black sheets.

Loki was currently in the process of stripping off his armor. It fell to the floor in pieces. Definitely no more open wounds. He got into the bed, turned to one side, and closed his eyes. Alright then.

Tony tiptoed over to the other side and slid beneath the soft sheets as quietly as possible. The lights faded. He lay on his back and listened out for Loki’s breathing. Regular, but forced. Still awake.

They lay like this for a long while.

 

#

 

At some point, Tony must have fallen asleep, because he woke with a start, all tangled up in black sheets. Where … what … oh. He sat up, but he was alone in the room. Okay.

Tony got out of bed and gathered some of his clothes. Then he looked more closely at his surroundings. One door that led back to the library, and another. Tony opened it. Bathroom. Might as well clean himself up first …

 

#

 

When he walked back into the bedroom, there was still no sign of Loki. Tony walked over to the other door and pushed it open. Lots of books were strewn across the two armchairs and the floor, displaying various texts and illuminations. Loki himself was standing at the left-hand shelf, running his finger along a row of books.

“Uhm, good morning,” Tony ventured. No reply. Was it even morning? Loki looked like shit, though. “Did you sleep at all?” Loki shook his head. “You wanna eat something?”

A dismissive gesture towards another door Tony had never noticed before. Heck, for all he knew, Loki was conjuring this place up as he went along. This was _his world_ , wasn’t it? There had to be a catch, though. Probably, he couldn’t take stuff he made up in here out. Or some other complicated magic rule.

Anyway. Breakfast. Third day running. Had to be some sort of record.

The kitchen Tony found was small, and all in black and green, but it had a fairly well-stocked fridge and, most importantly, coffee. Maybe some defined task would take his mind off …

Screw it. He walked back into the library. “Loki.” He was met by a blank stare. “Uhm. Is there anything — ?”

“Stop talking right now or you will regret it.”

Well, he’d got a reaction. No use backing down now, was there? “Yeah, well, I regret lots of things, I’ve made regret into an _art_ form, so regret doesn’t stop me from doing stuff, and sometimes, that doesn’t even stop stuff from being right.”

“Why would you even _care_?” Instantly, Loki looked horrified with himself, and turned back to his book-searching efforts.

It wasn’t a bad question, as such. Tony didn’t know an answer, mind, but it was a question that could and would arise. After all, _Loki_. That one word already summed up way more problems than Tony had room for in his life. But then, he’d made handling those into an art form as well.

“What happened to you over there?”

Loki froze. Seconds tickled by as he contemplated his options. How to play this. Which lie to pick, probably. Eyes fixed on the books, he ended up with, “What would you like to hear, Stark? How about he used the scepter and turned me into little more than a puppet? Oh, wait, you have seen me perform magic, so you might not believe the scepter would work on me. Let’s make it more personal, shall we? How about the Other tortured me and made me kneel - after all, what could I know of freedom if I hadn’t had it stripped from me once? Hm? Does that sound like a convenient narrative to you?”

Right. Come to think of it, what had Tony expected? Not a vacation spot, no, but … “I’m just curious by nature. Occupational hazard. You’re asking me why I care? How about, I care because this guy gave you an army to wipe out my planet and I know next to nothing about him. I care because this whole ‘freedom from freedom’ crap doesn’t fit with anything else you’ve done. And I care because yesterday, I saw you rip half a castle apart with your magic and yet you’re so scared you can’t even bring yourself to say his name!”

Loki whirled around at that. “Thanos,” he spat.

“There, now, that wasn’t too hard, was it?” Tony attempted a grin. It didn’t quite work, but it didn’t crumble under Loki’s furious gaze either. Maybe he shouldn’t provoke a sorcerer in his own piece of reality. Too late now.

“Thanos didn’t imprison me,” Loki said. “We made a _deal_. He wanted my magic and the tesseract. I wanted revenge. Freedom, yes. Freedom from freedom. It was the Other’s policy when subjecting a world rather than flat-out destroying it. Needless to say, Thanos rather favored the latter. It took me a while to realize I had underestimated the degree of his insanity. By then, it was too late to back out of the bargain. They used me. So I vowed vengeance upon them, too. But for the time being, I went with it. I told myself that it was until an opportunity presented itself to reclaim what I thought to be my rightful place in the universe. By any means necessary. I was lying to myself, of course. I must have known, somewhere deep down. Agent Coulson knew. He told me. He said I would lose, because I lacked conviction. He was too kind. But I did it anyway, Stark. And I did it with my eyes open.”

Tony swallowed. What in the Nine Realms could he reply to that? Make a bargain and survive. He knew a thing or two about that. It didn’t justify laying waste to Manhattan, of course. But here was the thing - what Loki had said hadn’t been an attempt at justification. It hadn’t been an excuse. Instead, it had been an answer. To Tony’s question. Just because he … asked.

“Well?” Loki asked, with his usual irritated impatience, and beneath it, just a tiny tinge of … nervousness.

What Tony wanted to say was, _I do care. I care because the Loki I’ve come to know in the last couple of weeks is a killer, and insane, but he’s also brilliant. You’ve shown me all these different worlds and all this crazy magic shit and you make me feel so_ alive _. I care because I don’t want this endless cycle of revenge, I just want to kiss that mouth and feel those hands on my skin again. I care because despite everything, that haunted look on your face makes me ache for you. I don’t understand any of this, I just … feel. So, I_ care _because …_

“Thank you,” he said.

Loki frowned. “Whatever for?”

“For not lying.”

A beat passed. Two. Three. Loki laughed. “I swear, Stark, I cannot figure you out at all.”

That shouldn’t be the best compliment Tony had received in about forever, but … it kind of was. “Yeah, uhm, I guess that makes two of us.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

Yeah. It did make two of them. Out here on the edge of reality, trying to make sense of …

Without warning, Loki moved. He was up there in Tony’s personal space and finally, finally kissing him again. Tony’s back hit a bookshelf. He kissed Loki back like he’d been starving, like that night on Vanaheim had been a lifetime ago.

Loki took a step back. Tony almost whined at the loss of contact, but Loki smiled at him and sank to his knees in one fluid motion. Tony stared. This hadn’t happened before. This wasn’t a thing he had ever expected to happen, Loki _kneeling_ in front of him and — Tony stopped thinking. Expecting. Whatever. He just surrendered to feeling.

 

#

 

Later, they ate. Something. Tony didn’t really pay much attention. They drank coffee, yes, in whatever space that was not occupied by open books.

Tony cleared his throat. “So what’s all this?” Might as well get back to business. They had a Titan to kill, after all.

“Mimir,” Loki said. “He told us to remember. To focus on what was important. Obviously, the Nine Realms have to be alerted to the current threat. The Other’s appearance on Vanaheim confirms his goals more than sufficiently. Defenses will have to be coordinated …”

Yeah, that made sense. All the realms together surely had to be enough to defeat one Mad Titan? Vanaheim had to be on board after that attack. Hel would have Niflheim follow Loki to … wherever. Though how they would get the Asgardians and the Frost Giants to cooperate was a different matter. And what about the Fire Giants of Muspelheim, who were supposed to be the downfall of Asgard in the Völuspá?

Loki went on, “But also, I am going over the ancient text again. Perhaps if we establish the original wording …”

Tony frowned, so Loki elaborated. Apparently, with these old texts, you didn’t get one original manuscript, and then maybe a special edition or director’s cut or whatever. They were copied, and copied again, collated and contaminated … and more often than not, there was no telling how far the text in current editions was from “the original.” Those “critical text editions” were the result of painstaking efforts of scholars who read and compared all the ancient manuscripts they could find. Tony hadn’t thought it could be so much work to even produce a legible text, let alone one approximating the original. Yeah, so there were some dotted lines in the stuff he’d read, which apparently indicated gaps in the manuscripts, but … With the Poetic Edda, no one even knew how old the poems were, and how much younger the oldest surviving manuscripts. And all of that was without considering translations of the text into other languages …

Right.

“Take, for instance, the catalog of dwarves,” Loki said. “See? Stanzas 11-16, a long list, just of names of dwarves? It is likely to be an interpolation, meaning it was not part of the original text, but inserted by one of the later scribes. It is mentioned in the Prose Edda by Snorri Sturluson, who always enjoys a good catalog, and perhaps it was inserted in the Poetic Edda because the stanza just before ends on ‘Many a likeness of men they made / The dwarves in the earth, as Durin said.’ But the list can be discarded when looking for the actual poem.”

“Alright,” Tony said. That made some sort of sense. He’d only skimmed over those names anyway, although some of them had sounded familiar. Hadn’t there been a Gandalf in it? “What else does or doesn’t belong in the poem, then?”

“I don’t know.” Loki gestured at all the books lying around. “No one does, not even Hel. But it strikes me as an important step to undertake.”

“I have to say I agree.” If the Völuspá held the key to ragnarök, they should probably make sure they had the right one. “But we could speed up the process if I got Jarvis to run some analyses for us. You know, this collation and comparison thing for manuscripts? I can totally write a program for that. For all of this.”

Loki arched an eyebrow. “You would do this at your Tower?”

“Yeah. Look, the others are probably worried, anyway. And if this madman is out to destroy all the realms, I think you could do with having the Avengers on your side, don’t you think? I mean, all of them.”

Which of course included Thor. Now there was another conversation Tony wasn’t looking forward to … And by the looks of him, neither was Loki.

But, “Very well,” he concluded. “Avengers Tower it is.”

“Tomorrow?” Tony half-asked, half-declared.

The relieved look on Loki’s face made up for much, though.

 

#

 

They materialized on the gantry. The sun rose on a bright day in New York City around them. Somehow, it felt weird, looking at the upper levels of Avengers Tower now, after all Tony had been through in the past couple of … had it just been days? How many, two? Three?

“Welcome home, sir,” Jarvis acknowledged.

“Hi buddy,” Tony said, in a small voice. Home. Yes.

“And Mr Laufeyson, welcome.”

“Thank you.”

Tony didn’t know why, but having Loki respond to Jarvis made him feel better.

“Okay,” he said. “Where are the Avengers? Anyone already awake?”

“Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes are still asleep,” Jarvis said. “Agents Romanoff and Barton are on a mission with Mr Wilson to liberate a SHIELD base captured by Hydra in a classified location which I recover for you, should you wish me to do so. They are due back around midday. Doctor Banner is in his lab. Thor is currently in the kitchen, inspecting the contents of the fridge. Shall I render him assistance?”

“Sure,” Tony mumbled. Thor. He looked at Loki, who sighed. “Kitchen?”

“Lead the way,” Loki replied. Tense, again.

 _I miss Thor a lot_ , had been the first thing he’d said in this strange “one of these is a lie” speech. That couldn’t be the lie, could it? No, that had to be true. As had been the ‘I want to bend you over this work station,’ obviously. Which left the never wanting to set foot onto Asgard again as the lie. Hm. Probably. Seemed a little obvious, but … never mind. Yeah, Loki missed Thor.

They made their way into the Tower and down to the communal kitchen. Thor could be heard talking, or rather shouting at Jarvis. “Do not presume to patronize me, machine!”

Just the moment to walk into. But putting this off wouldn’t make it any more comfortable.

Loki made the decision in the end, by brushing past Tony and into the kitchen. “Jarvis,” he said, “be a dear and put on the coffee, yes?”

Thor whirled around as if someone had taken Mjölnir and hit him over the head with it. Tony felt for him, he really did. He also disapproved of his machinery being used as some sort of childish display of power, but … he wouldn’t get involved in this for sure.

“Certainly, sir,” Jarvis said. “The usual for yourself and Mr. Stark?”

“That would be most kind.”

The coffee machine started spluttering. Loki drank his coffee strong and black, like Tony. He knew that now, Tony realized. He knew that Loki could string more than two words together even before coffee, too, that he slept on his stomach, that he liked cinnamon, but not saffron, and that …

“Loki,” Thor said. He stood there in front of the open fridge, staring at his brother, or not-brother, or whatever.

“Oh, hello Thor,” Loki replied, as if he’d only just noticed the other’s presence. Smooth.

“Where have you _been_? I feared you would not return!”

Loki shrugged. “Did the Captain not tell you? I had urgent matters to attend to.”

“With _Stark_?”

 _Hey_ , Tony felt tempted to say, _I’m right here you know_. He didn’t.

“Why, of course.” Loki took the first cup of coffee from the machine and pushed it over in Tony’s general direction in a perfectly absent-minded gesture. Shit, he wasn’t about to reveal that the two of them … “It concerns the prophecies.” Thor flinched at that. “And since they were recorded on Midgard, yes, I require the assistance of a mortal to trace their steps through history.”

“You think … it is upon us? Ragnarök?”

“Evidently.” Loki wrapped his slender fingers around the second cup of coffee and took a sip. A Stark Industries cup, by coincidence. Tony swallowed.

“Would you like some toast, as well?” Jarvis asked.

“Please.” Another sip of coffee, and Loki turned back to Thor. “From the moment Odin took the risk of waking Baldur up, this was always the likeliest course of action. At the very least, he wanted to be prepared. Which is why he let me go, incidentally. To … investigate, as it were. He judged it to be in my own best interest.”

 _Loki dies_ , Tony thought. _During ragnarök. Loki dies, and Thor does, too. Shit,_ everyone _dies_.

“Why did you not come to me immediately?” Thor asked. Valid point.

The toaster pinged. Jarvis opened the right cabinet for Loki, with the plates, and the drawer with the cutlery. The fridge still stood open, anyway. Loki moved around the kitchen without having to think about it, as if he’d been living in this Tower forever. He eyed the kitchen knife with some disapproval, before setting to work on the toast in a blur. Somehow, three-tiered sandwiches came out on the other end. Tony made a mental note to acquire new kitchen knives, highest quality he could find, asap.

A plate was set down in front of him. Food. Breakfast, as it happened. Right. Food was a good idea.

“I had research to do before that,” Loki said, as an answer to Thor’s question. “Besides, haven’t you been … occupied?”

Jane. Thor had been spending all his time with Jane and damn, who could fault him for it, after all the guy had been through? Hadn’t Tony himself thought he could be happy, once he’d hung up his armor, as it were, and retired to Malibu with Pepper, to finally not fight anymore? Funny how things turned out sometimes.

“Do not insult her again!” Thor thundered.

But Loki hadn’t. There’d even be this rare tinge of compassion in his voice, that might imply Loki thought exactly the same. That Thor had deserved some time off … Maybe that was why Loki, for once, didn’t rise to the challenge. Instead, he busied himself with preparing another plate of assembled toast. This one, he pushed on Thor.

Loki said, “I have research yet to carry out. Recover the original text of the prophecy, for one. It has become jumbled, by tradition. Stark says he can write a program to assist with this process. At the same time, the Nine Realms have to be aware of the extent of a threat they are facing. The Mad Titan is on the hunt.”

Thor frowned. That had to mean something to him, and nothing good, either. Yeah, totally not reassuring. “Is that where you …” He trailed off.

“Yes,” Loki said. The resolve was back in his voice, quiet and icy. “Which is why he is going to lose.”

Thor must have recognized it, too, because he nodded. “What do you require of me?”

He was going along with this rather more easily than Tony had expected. But then, Thor must have grown up with the tales of ragnarök as well, and even though he’d dismissed them in the beginning, now that Loki was right here and Fenrir had already attacked, and maybe he’d rethought how Malekith had only been a story as well and ...

Loki was right here.

That had to be it. Thor had seen him die two times, after all, and the latter of those had been to save his life. Damn.

“Eventually, we will need to ensure the cooperation of all the realms,” Loki said. “Since I can hardly go back to Asgard, I shall require you to reinforce those bonds. I have just returned from Vanaheim, so that, at least, will not be a concern. But for now … Go. There is time yet. She’s waiting, is she not?”

Thor nodded. “Keep me informed of any steps you intend to take. Captain Rogers, too.”

“Certainly.”

Loki pushed another plate on Thor. For Jane. Oh dear. Was this Loki being _kind_? Thor gave Tony a curt nod before vanishing around the corner.

“Uhm,” Tony said.

“I expect there will be a team meeting later on?” Loki said. “I suspect you will require sustenance.”

“Probably,” Tony said. He sat down at the table. Loki did, too. “Jarvis, give us some music.”

Black Sabbath filled the kitchen. Hm.

Tony should say something. Shouldn’t he? No, he definitely shouldn’t. “Have you been keeping Thor out of this to keep him _safe_?”

Loki looked at him over the brim of his cup. “An interesting theory.” In the Loki-English dictionary, that meant, _you’re absolutely right_.

Where did that leave Tony, then? The one person Loki had actually taken with him to … investigate? Necessary evil? Potential collateral damage? Either of those were possible, but they didn’t ring true. There was the entire Týr business, yeah, but that didn’t necessitate trips to Vanaheim. So why … But Loki had told him once, hadn’t he?

_So that … for once, just before it all ends … I might not be alone._

Tony swallowed. His hand, the real one, had found its way onto the nearest part of Loki, which happened to be the thigh, just to have something to hold on to. Loki gave him a short, questioning look, but then resumed his meal. Tony tried to drown the lump in his throat with coffee. It didn’t quite work. But Loki felt warm beneath his palm.

 

#

 

Tony had a look at Jarvis’ diagnostics on the security system first. Upgrades were definitely in order, but those should keep Thanos out. For now.

But, ragnarök. The text. Tony had Jarvis procure a copy of a so-called critical text edition with commentary, that was, a version of the Völuspá with the Old Norse text and how the readings of the manuscripts differed.

“So, let me get this straight. The Völuspá was composed orally around 1000 CE, then written down, copied once with interpolations, and copied again, and that is the oldest extant manuscript? Or so the scholars _think_?”

“It would appear so.” Loki peered at the tree diagram displaying the dependencies of manuscripts. “The so-called Codex Regius. There is one more, that includes two leaves of the Völuspá, called Hausbók. And then there are the quotations in Snorri’s Edda, of course.”

“And all of those differ from each other, sometimes significantly,” Tony concluded. Jeez. “Okay, I need a high res scan of that Codex Rexius or whatever it’s called. Don’t suppose they’ll be willing to hand over their treasured old manuscript to an American famous for building half this planet’s weapons.”

Loki chuckled. “Fancy that.”

“Pepper can get onto that. She’ll come up with a reason why Stark Industries would be interested in old manuscripts. I’ll give them the software when I’m done, or something.”

“Philology,” Loki said.

“What?”

“The close study of old texts - that discipline is called philology.”

Right, whatever. In the meantime, Tony ran the critical edition through Jarvis and had him create a multi-layered display of the Völuspá. There was still the problem of some parts of the manuscripts being barely legible, but he hoped to solve that with the scans.

“Sir,” Jarvis said. “Captain Rogers is requesting to assemble the Avengers.”

“Yeah, sure. Loki, do you mind, erm, watching the text for a moment?”

“Not at all,” he replied, already immersed in shuffling words around the holographic display.

Right. The text was important. But then, so was the defense of Earth. And who better to ask than Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Just how Tony would explain all this to them was another matter entirely.

“So, uh, anything you got on the ‘alerting the realms’ front? Cause I could really use some support, going into these trials, otherwise known as debriefing.”

Loki turned around. Between his hands appeared another of his magic holograms, this time of an ash. Yggdrasil. And the Nine Realms in it. Jarvis’ holograms flared briefly, but then adjusted to the new presence.

“Thanos will come with an army of unimaginable strength. It will only have grown since I left. Which means that every realm has to muster up all the defense they can. Let’s start with Asgard.” Loki pointed to the realm on top. It flared green at his touch. “Thor will handle Asgard. He is on your side already. The others will follow. I place the utmost faith in your negotiating skills.”

“How reassuring. I’m guessing you want the Avengers to coordinate any defense systems on Earth? That’ll be tricky, now that SHIELD is gone, but we’ll figure out a way. We’ll just have to, won’t we?”

Loki nodded. “I shall talk to Freyja about Vanaheim.” Another realm flared up. He proceeded through them, “And she is revered throughout Nidavellir. They will follow where she leads. Niflheim will obviously not be a problem. And Svartalfheim is … it is a dead world. There is no one left to talk to anymore.”

The Dark World. Yeah, Tony recalled those tales from Thor. “That leaves … three?”

“As ever, your math is impeccable.” Loki grinned. “But yes. Alfheim should be easy enough. We will pay them a visit when convenient. On the other hand, there is Muspelheim, whose flames are the downfall of Asgard in the prophecy. We’ll need a little more than promises of cooperation to persuade Sutur. This will have to wait.”

Wait, did this mean Tony would get to see two more realms? That really shouldn’t excite him so much, what with the impending apocalypse and all. Besides, there was one left … “And what about Jötunheim?”

“I will handle Jötunheim. The sooner, the better. A truce between Asgard, Vanaheim and Jötunheim would go a long way towards convincing the remaining realms.”

That made sense. Although … “Does that mean I don’t get to come with you this time?”

Loki frowned. “It would be highly dangerous. Frost giants do not take well to strangers.”

“Oh, but the dwarves did?” He was not letting the opportunity to see these vast ice deserts in something other than a nightmare slip through his fingers … “Besides, isn’t Midgard central to all this? Middle Realm and stuff? How do you know I won’t be of some use over there?”

That had made an impression. Loki was considering it, Tony could tell. Negotiating skills, eh? “Very well,” Loki concluded. “Talk to your Avengers. Have Miss Potts procure the manuscripts. We can deal with Jötunheim while Jarvis runs your programs.”

Alright then. “I’ll talk to the Avengers. Just … No waltzing in and insulting everyone. Okay?”

“If that is your wish.” With that, Loki turned back to the text.

Okay. Showtime. Or something.

 

#

 

To say the atmosphere in the situation room was tense would be an understatement. Thor, at least, seemed happy enough to see Tony, and Bruce gave him the usual smile, but Barton glared at him. Both Sam’s and Steve’s looks were carefully neutral. Natasha was … probably evaluating whether he’d been compromised.

“Tony,” Steve said. “I’m glad to see you’re well. Thor has already said you traveled to another realm?”

“Vanaheim, yeah.” Tony flopped down onto one of the swivel chairs at the round table. “You know, the usual stuff, chasing alien artifacts, blowing up Chitauri …”

Everyone sat up straighter at that name.

“Did Loki betray you?” Steve asked.

“Nope. One of his former allies turned up. The guy who gave him the Chitauri army, you see. He was called the Other.”

Barton burst out laughing. “You expect us to believe that?”

Thankfully, Thor intervened. “The Other is a known ally of Thanos, the Mad Titan, about whom I have just told you.” That shut Barton up. For the time being, anyway. Thor turned to Tony. “What happened to the Other?”

Uhm … He got ripped to nothingness by sheer force of magic. Maybe not something to tell Barton. Better opt for simple. “Loki killed him.”

“Isn’t that convenient,” Barton spat. “This is Loki you’re talking about. He’s _playing_ you. That’s all the guy ever does!”

Thor tried, “There are ancient prophecies —”

“It’s a _trick_!”

Looking around the room, Barton seemed to have the tacit support of Natasha and Sam. Maybe Steve. Not good. Tony knew how ludicrous it all sounded. After all, hadn’t it taken him forever to believe Loki? To … trust … well.

“You know what, if you don’t believe the prophecy stuff, fine,” he said. “Loki and me are working that angle, anyway. But still, Thanos is out there and he’s preparing a rampage through the Nine Realms. Will you really disregard that threat, just because —”

“Because _Loki_ made you aware of it?” Barton laughed. It sounded hysterical. “For all anyone knows, that Thanos guy could only be looking for Loki. He’s got this tendency to piss people off, doesn’t he.”

_We made a deal …_

“All Thanos cares about is death,” Tony said.

“And you know that how? Because Loki told you? Go to hell, man.”

Tony had to laugh. He couldn’t help himself. “Been there. Done that. I don’t think she likes me very much.”

Everyone stared. “You met Hel?” Thor asked. He sounded terrified.

Steve cleared his throat. All the attention focused on him. “Look,” he said. “Tony. Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

Tony told them. The story of how he’d become entangled in ragnarök. The broad outline, that was. He left out some stuff, such as Hel being Loki’s daughter, the pyre on Vanaheim, and, of course, the specific _entanglement_ he’d developed with Loki himself. He had a feeling Barton might just kill him for that. Or Thor, come to think of it.

When he’d finished, no one said anything for a good while. Letting it all sink in. Of course, it fell to Steve to take point, again.

“The way I see it,” he said, “this Thanos is a real threat. If Vanaheim and Asgard take this seriously,” he looked at Thor, who nodded, “then so should we. So what’s the plan?”

“Defenses,” Tony said. “Earth has to be protected. Planet-wide. It’ll be hard to do, without SHIELD, and with Hydra sniffing at our tails.”

“And that prophecy of yours?” Sam asked. “Hate to admit it, but the way you tell it, sure sound as if there’s something in it.” He gestured at the artificial hand.

“I’m having Jarvis run some programs to get as close to the original wording as possible,” Tony said. “We’ll work it from there.”

“Who’s ‘we’ here?” Natasha asked.

“Loki and me.” When she and Barton started to protest, Tony snapped, “Do either of you happen to speak Old Norse? No? Thought not. And anyway, it’s just one angle.”

“What about the other realms?” Steve asked.

“Working on that, too. Off to Jötunheim tomorrow. We’ll see about the rest.”

“You cannot go to Jötunheim!” Thor said, visibly shocked. “Neither can Loki. You will _die_.”

Tony shrugged. “Look, we probably don’t have much time. Fenrir was already here, after all. Can you start working on a planet-wide defense grid? Jarvis is at your disposal, too.”

Steve nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Still, it’d be better to have you here, working on this with us. Like it or not, you’re the weapons expert. Let Thor go with Loki to Jötunheim, if he doesn’t want to go alone.”

That would make perfect sense. And yet … “No,” Tony said, before Thor could intervene. And not just because Loki would absolutely hate the arrangement. “I’ll be back soon enough to help with the defense grid. Seriously. Let me keep an eye on Loki. I’ve become sort of an expert on that in recent weeks.”

Steve looked at Thor, who looked at Tony. Not uncomfortable at all. Eventually, though, Thor nodded.

And so, it was settled.

 

#

 

Thor walked up to Tony right after the debrief ended, but didn’t speak yet. Bruce gave him a sympathetic smile as he walked past. The rest of the Avengers were already deep in conversation concerning that defense grid.

When they were alone, Thor cleared his throat. “He will betray you, Stark. It is in his nature.”

What kind of bizarre version of a talking-to from the overprotective brother was this, now? “Yeah, probably.”

Thor patted Tony on the shoulder. “It will hurt no less when you are expecting it.”

Ouch. That had to be the experience speaking, there.

“I know what I’m doing.” Most of the time, anyway.

“When you travel through and between the realms with Loki, it can be easy to lose track of what is real and what is not. Be careful.” On that note, he strode out.

Right.

 

#

 

On the way down the corridor, Tony ran into Pepper. Almost literally. Uhm. Amicable though their break-up had been, he still didn’t feel entirely comfortable with her. When all this ragnarök stuff was over, maybe they should go for a drink or two.

“Tony.” She gave him a smile. “I was just looking for you. The Árni Magnússon Institute in Iceland got back to me. They’re sending scans over. But you’ll have to provide them with this program you’re writing.”

“Absolutely. Dedication to scholarship and all that. Will look good on the portfolio, I’m sure. Thanks.”

“You know …” Pepper gave him a once-over. “Considering you’re working on averting the apocalypse, you look … good. Rested, dare I say it.”

“I’ve been sleeping alright, for a change.” And he had been, Tony realized. That one tense evening after the Other aside.

“How come?”

“I … erm. I don’t know, really.” Not a lie. After all, there was no logical reason why proximity to Loki should be conducive to sweet dreams. Right? “What’ve you been up to, though?”

“Oh, you know.” She made a vague gesture at everything. She looked good, too, Tony noticed. “Just the usual madhouse of running a company. And now I’m afraid I’ve got to be off, I’m meeting Happy for lunch.”

“Oh.” Who was he to talk, though? “Give him my regards.”

“I will. See you soon, Tony.”

She vanished down the corridor. He stared after her as he contemplated the concept of missed chances.

“Sir?” Jarvis asked. “Mr Laufeyson is waiting for you.”

In spite of himself, Tony smiled. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

 

#


	9. Chapter 9

Jötunheim. For this realm, Tony had kind of known what to expect. For a change. After all, he’d been here before, hadn’t he? In that second dream, where he’d stumbled through the labyrinthine cliffs. Oh, and jumped off one. Ah well.

They materialized on top of a ledge. That was kind of becoming a topic as well, wasn’t it. Tony disengaged the faceplate to get an uninterrupted view. Cold air assaulted his face, but he could bear it, for the time being. They were looking out over the vast ice desert, interrupted by dark cliffs of all sorts and shapes. The labyrinth, only from above. But it felt different from Niflheim. Down there, it was mist and huge canyons. Here, the air itself was … Tony took a deep breath. It hurt in his lungs, it was so cold and so _clear_. He’d never realized just how polluted the air over Manhattan was until that point.

The wind howled, somewhere in the distance. It sounded like an old friend. Not a living soul in sight. Only ice glittering in the moonlight.

“Wow,” Tony whispered. His breath condensed in front of his eyes, forming an intricate pattern. He’d never even tolerated the cold before … “You know, with all the stories, I kind of expected this to be more scary and less … magnificent?”

The moonlight made Loki even paler, but his eyes glinted red. Frost giant. “Isn’t it just? Though I concede, it took me a while to see it, myself.”

Loki had been born here, Tony recalled. This was Jötunheim, this was Loki’s _home_. It seemed a far cry from Asgard, for sure, and from Vanaheim, too, from the golden, warm opulence that anyone could associate with richness and splendor and home. But this … this was a different kind of beauty, Tony thought. The harsh winter, the icy winds, and the silver glitter of the ice. Unforgiving, was the word that floated through his mind. Yes. _Unforgiving_. But once you’d earned your place …

He’d shuffled closer to Loki. If this was his home, and he’d come to appreciate it some way or the other, then what about those three statements? _I miss Thor a lot. I never want to set foot onto Asgard again. I want to bend you over this work station when we’re done. One of these is a lie._ It _had_ to be the Asgard one. But … Looking at all this, now, Tony wasn’t so sure anymore.

“So, which one _was_ the lie?” he asked.

“Hm?” Loki blinked at him, coming back from wherever his thoughts had wandered off to.

“You know, the stuff you told me once, that you miss Thor, that you never want to return to Asgard and that you want to, erm, fuck me, as it were. And one of those was supposed to be a lie.”

“Oh. That. Well?”

“I kind of assumed the third one was true, because that’s what you did, in fact, do. So. Uhm. The first one I also thought was true. I mean, I don’t have any siblings …”

“Lucky you,” Loki mumbled.

“But yeah, I figured, all that time spent together, it’s got to have left some mark … so I guess despite everything, you probably do miss Thor, even if you just miss despising him. And you’re perceptive. Maybe it’s different when it’s about yourself than when it’s figuring others out, but I think you’d admit this to yourself. Why you’d admit it to _me_ is another question, but I really don’t want to go into this right now and I’m just rambling, am I?”

“Oh, please. Do go on.” Loki’s eyes were definitely red now. Cracks in the shape-shifting. Was that on purpose? Tony stared, fascinated. The shade was the exact color of Hel’s eyes, too.

“Uh, well, so that leaves the Asgard one, doesn’t it? First, I thought that had to be the lie. Because it might not be your home as in that’s where you were born, but that’s not what really counts on most levels, is it? You lived there for what, a couple of centuries? So I thought despite all that, you probably miss Asgard, too. So you might want to return. At some point. I don’t know. Do you?”

“Hmm. Not bad, Stark, but consider this - if a person believes that what they are telling you is true, even though you suspect that not to be the case - is it still a lie?”

“I guess … not?” Tony frowned.

“Also consider what happens when people tell you what they remember … oh, _memory_. That is what they should call the goddess of lies. And yet, it is known as the mother of the muses instead. What does that tell us about stories?”

Tony shivered. “But if that’s not a lie, because maybe you really believe you never want to see Asgard again, then what is?”

Loki touched Tony’s cheek. Yes, that was still warm, too. Pale. But those red eyes … Loki’s hands slid down Tony’s neck, not even pausing where skin became metal.

“Not bad. Not at all,” Loki whispered. “Do I want to fuck you? Evidently. Do I miss Thor? Much to my chagrin, yes. Do I want to sent foot into Asgard again? Ah, it will never be my realm, will it? And after all the traveling I’ve done, out of my own free will or not, and now that I’ve found Hel … Yes, I convinced myself that staying away from Asgard was for the better. What is left there for me, anyway?”

“But … But then all three were true.”

“Hmm. What else did I say?”

_Their exact words, Stark … Words are important …_

“One of these is a lie.” Oh. Not, one of _these three_ is a lie. Not, one of _those_ that I’ve just listed. Instead, one of _these_. “Wait, that was the lie? That there was, in fact, no lie in the previous statements?”

Loki chuckled, low in his throat, and let his hands fall away. Tony swallowed. Insane master manipulator. And Tony wanted him anyway. He’d come too far to try and convince himself that _that_ was a lie.

“So you see, Stark. The truth is a rather complicated thing. If it exists at all.”

“Well, the _word_ exists, so I guess, the truth does, too. On some level. Even if it’s a different level for everyone.”

Loki … smiled. “I’m beginning to think we might figure this out after all. Come along. We have much work to do.”

 

#

 

They made their way down. The Iron Man suit really wasn’t designed for hiking in Arctic-like conditions. Bad oversight. Tony would have to fix this with the next upgrade. Just in case. “Where, exactly, are we going?”

“The capital,” Loki said.

“And let me guess, we’re going to talk to their king.”

“Their king is dead.”

Oh. Right. That would have been Laufey. Thor had told the Avengers that story. Loki’s father. Who’d been killed by … Loki.

“Wait, is it okay for you to waltz in there? I mean, after all …”

Loki laughed, shrill and too loud. “After all, I killed said king, stole the Casket and put the crown prince in my service? Yes, that is indeed something to consider.”

Bastard. “But you already _have_ considered this, right? You were walking around Jötunheim before, looking for the völva.”

“They’re a peculiar people, the frost giants. We are, I should say. I killed their king. They might not like this, but they respect it.”

“Okay.” Respect was good. Respect, they could work with. “So, who is in charge? Is that this Skadi person you were looking for on Vanaheim?”

“I wish.” Loki sighed. “She’s reasonable. Sometimes, anyway. No, it’s Skrýmir. He is … in charge. At least, until Byleist returns from assisting Hel.”

“Which will be whenever you say so, right?”

The smile returned to Loki’s face. Which was to say, _yes, exactly_. The moonlight was still painting his skin a deathly pale hue. He wasn’t wearing furs or anything other than his usual leather armor. Tony’s HUD put the outside temperature at -60F. Frost giant. Definitely.

“Come to think of it …” Loki must have caught Tony staring. Through the HUD. Uh-huh. Loki’s skin started to change. It turned darker. Blue, Tony realized. Blue with black, ridged markings. His hair changed, too, into the red color of Hel’s hair. His eyes bled fully into red. There wasn’t much exposed skin that could show a difference, just face, throat and hands, but either way, the effect was staggering. Loki looked … alien, now. _Shape-shifter, Jötunn, sorcerer …_ This was no less Loki than his usual form had been, than the lady who’d accompanied Tony to the gala, and no less than Lars Lundgren either. Just … _Loki_.

“Well, Stark?”

Tony smiled. “Never thought blue would be your color, but it kind of is.”

They walked on. A snow storm picked up and howled over the labyrinth, but they didn’t enter it, instead turned left and made their way around what appeared to be a large, black mountain. Out of the corner of his eyes, Tony could swear he saw people move. Watching them. Probably sending messages ahead. The traitor prince has arrived, they probably said. The traitor prince and some contraption from Midgard. Tony almost had to laugh. He’d be interested to see what the frost giants made of this suit.

The path around the mountain seemed to go on forever. Tony was on the brink of asking why Loki couldn’t have teleported them closer, but then, the same applied here probably as it had in Folkvangar. Ancient magic. And if Tony had learned one thing, ancient magic was nothing to mess with. That had been how Loki had obliterated the Other, hadn’t it? By drawing from that ancient magic? Because if Loki was that powerful, all the time, there was no way the Avengers could have won the Battle of New York … What a comforting thought.

A light shone, out there in the snow storm. They’d arrived. Tony made his HUD attempt to filter through the snow storm, but it was throwing off interference, resisting his scans. Magic. Tony really had to get Loki’s input on his next upgrade, to guard against occasions such as this and —

Loki had stopped on top of a small trail down the rock, just about visible in the snow. It had to lead down into the city, into the haze. One quick look around, then Loki held out his right hand, palm upward. A small sphere of energy formed on it. Green and gold, still. Not the colors to associate with frost giants. Maybe, this magic was just … Loki.

The sphere revolved around itself, faster and faster. He lifted his palm and blew the sphere away, right into the center of the storm. Tony tried to track it with his HUD, to figure out what was going on, but to no avail. It disappeared in the haze. Loki did something with his hand, stretched out three fingers and turned them. The storm subsided. Slowly, ever so slowly, the clouds dissipated, revealing the city behind.

“Welcome to Utgard, Stark,” Loki said, with his eyes on the city. “Welcome to my home.”

Tony stared.

In front of him lay not so much a city but a ringed maze of black arches, reaching towards the sky and covered with varying layers of ice. It made Tony think of the towering gothic cathedrals of Europe. Small bridges connected the buildings, so it was hard to know where one ended and another began. And yet, despite all its grandeur, it looked … desolate.

“What happened to this place?”

“Asgard,” Loki replied, without inflection. “The great war of 900 CE. Odin defeated the frost giants and took the Casket and all this fell into derelict.”

Oh. Yes. Of course. Asgardians saw themselves as guardians of the Nine Realms, didn’t they? And they would enforce this by any means necessary …

“And you want to return this Casket thing? Eventually?”

“Yes,” Loki said.

“Wouldn’t that mean war on Asgard again? You know, revenge?”

At last, Loki turned around. There was a trace of a smile on his face. This wasn’t some personal crusade against … against what? “Fear not, Stark. It is merely my impression that keeping the remaining realms under foot is not working out too well for Asgard. A strong Jötunheim might benefit the Nine Realms.”

“Yeah, because that strong Jötunheim would depend on _you_.”

Loki laughed. “Come along.”

Well. Nothing much Tony could do about inter-realm politics at the moment. As long as it took care of Thanos, the rest might sort itself ... No, it wouldn’t. It really, really wouldn’t. But at least he was here, for better or for worse, keeping an eye on things.

So they began their descent.

 

#

 

They entered the city between two of those high, pointed structures that reached straight for the sky. They looked no less like magnificent cathedrals from below. Deserted cathedrals, mind. If this was the capital, shouldn’t there be _people_ around? Other than those shadow figures his HUD kept spotting, before they faded into the background again. Not creepy at all.

Just to his left, he heard a huge crack, like an explosion. He couldn’t help but flinch as he looked around. An ice spire had broken off the top of a building and crashed onto the ground. If anyone had been standing beneath that, they’d be dead. Health and safety probably wasn’t a huge concern for frost giants. The wind howled, but it couldn’t budge the spire. It was about the size of the Hulk, too.

The noise had woken up _something_ , though. Tony’s HUD noticed it. A large creature, on four legs, a huge mass of gray fur and sharp teeth crawling towards them. Wild animals in the streets. Wild, hungry animals. Why not? If there were no people, then maybe because this creature had had them for breakfast. Or whatever time it was, around here. Tony couldn’t tell.

The creature growled. It echoed off the stone structures and resounded for what seemed like an eternity. No one moved. Tony didn’t dare to fire up his repulsors. Better not provoke this thing.

Loki stepped in front of Tony, a protective gesture again, which probably wasn’t doing Tony any favors to whoever was watching. Here was to hoping Loki knew what he was doing. Probably not something to bet one’s life on … He raised a hand to this creature and … it subsided.

“Very well,” a voice snarled. Tony whirled around and saw himself faced with about thirty frost giants. Blue skin, flaming red eyes. None of them wore any armor. Didn’t need it. One advanced. They were actually standing in a large, open space. Might one time have been a market place. Nothing but ice now. “You would return _here_?”

“It appears that I have.” Loki turned around with a smile on his face. His trickster smile. Tony recognized it. This could be fun. Or disastrous. Or both.

“Where is Byleist?” That one had to be their interim leader, then. Skrýmir.

“You will have your king-in-waiting returned, unharmed and in one piece, once Niflheim is back to working as it should be.”

Skrýmir really was a giant, Tony thought, towering over them easily. Over Loki, too. “Working as _you_ think it should, you mean.”

“Naturally.”

“Do you still desire the throne?”

Loki gave a perfectly faked frown. “Which one would that be? There are, after all, so many.”

“You would have thousands of us die in an attempt to defeat death himself, and then, after, you would strut onto the remains and reshape them in your image.”

Tony shivered. The bad thing was, he could see that happening.

“You think I would wish to rule over a graveyard?” Loki laughed. “Charming.”

“Return Byleist to us. And the Casket.”

“Pledge your assistance to the fight against Thanos, and I will. Mind, you should not require any incentives. When Thanos arrives, he will raze the Nine Realms to the ground. And he will not align himself with ice. If anything, his fancy lies with fire.”

Skrýmir snarled. Muspelheim, Tony thought. Ice and fire, the two primordial elements, according to the Völuspá. There had to be a long history in that, as well.

“We will defend against Thanos,” Skrýmir said. “We care not for death. But why should we obey _you_?”

“You would merely be acting in your own best interest.” Loki gave him another winning smile. “And besides, if you strike me dead now, as I know you long to, the Casket would be lost to you forever.”

Another growling laugh from Skrýmir. “You have a habit of making yourself indispensable. Your company, on the other hand …” His gaze turned to Tony. Oh, great. A murderous gaze, too. That’s probably what Thor had meant when he’d warned of certain death when entering Jötunheim.

And Loki? He tipped his head back and laughed. The thirty-odd frost giants behind their leader were creeping closer, so that was probably a bad sign.

“Kill Tony Stark?” Loki gasped. “You’re most welcome to try.” Well, shit. “But really, I would advice against it. Greater forces have tried and failed.”

Uhm. The Chitauri. Not to mention Loki himself. Right.

“But he is _mortal_.”

“He is an _Avenger_.”

That made an impression. Skrýmir subsided. Huh. _They’re dangerous_ , Fury had said, after the Battle of New York. _And the whole world knows it. In fact, every world knows it._ Tony hadn’t thought about the implications of that, of how them defeating the Chitauri invasion might have made them sort of famous in other realms.

“Midgard is and must be central to all efforts,” Loki continued. “Do I have your cooperation?”

Skrýmir looked as if he’d rather swallow his own tongue than answer, but he did grind out, “Yes.”

“Very well. I shall be in touch, as soon as Stark has set up the basics of the defense grid.”

Weapons expert. Right.

“Does the mortal have nothing to say for himself?” Skrýmir asked.

Yeah, because letting Tony speak in anything approaching a diplomatic situation worked out so well. But Loki merely turned to him, with those red eyes of his, and raised an eyebrow. _Do you_ , the gesture asked.

Tony opened the faceplate. This time, at least, he was prepared for the biting cold. “Well, I could certainly do with an estimate of what you can contribute. To the defense efforts, I mean.”

Skrýmir laughed. “You will have to explain to me, one day, how you ended up at the side of Loki Laufeyson.”

“I don’t think so.”

Skrýmir still seemed to find this hilarious. Well, if it kept him from killing Tony, alright. But then … _you’re welcome to try_. Loki had meant that, Tony realized. As in, you can try, but you won’t succeed. Fenrir hadn’t killed him, either. Nor had the fall from the wormhole. How about that.

“Very well, then. Come along, mortal. Let us talk about our _strength_.”

Clear attempt at intimidation. Which meant Skrýmir was now at a disadvantage. Cornered. Hah. “By all means,” Tony said. “Let’s hope it is as formidable as you say.”

To his side, Loki laughed. He certainly seemed to be doing something right, he thought, as they followed the giant out of the square. And yet, he couldn’t really shake the feeling that something horrible was about to happen. After all, how would they show him this strength? He brought his faceplate back down and had the HUD scan the entire area for people or creatures or any kind of weaponry. Nothing, though. They were being led into one of the cathedrals. It looked like one from the inside, too, despite the caved in roof. Just a huge, high room, filled with snow and ice.

Skrýmir took up position opposite them. Loki said, “Good luck.”

Oh great, Tony managed to think, before Skrýmir attacked him. Ice blade, like Fenrir’s. He’d made some upgrades to the repulsors to deal with those, just in case. So he whirled out of the way and fired. The ice broke. It didn’t deter Skrýmir, who launched onto Tony with his bare hands instead, but the icing problem had been the very first thing he’d upgraded. Who knew it would turn out to be that useful? Apart from saving his life from Obadiah, of course. Tony powered up his thrusters and lifted them off the ground. Frost giants couldn’t fly. So he held on to Skrýmir and crashed him into the nearest wall. Ice splintered in their wake.

Down on the ground, Loki stood with his arms crossed, watching intently. Bastard. He’d totally planned for this to happen. A demonstration of Midgard’s power. Yeah, thanks for the heads-up.

Skrýmir glared. Not done yet, were they? Tony hovered in mid-air. He grabbed him by the throat and hurled him to the ground. With nothing to break his fall, Skrýmir landed hard, but on his feet. Well, frost giants were probably built for that kind of thing. Skrýmir peered up at Tony and did something to the air around him, to make it ice. Lots of icy arrows. All aimed at Tony. Great. His armor had held out alright against Fenrir, but now, this was a genuine frost giant and he couldn’t hold it off forever, either. Fire, then. He powered up his repulsors and ran a quick check on the atmosphere, but yeah, that should work. So he made fire. It looked completely alien, shooting out of his repulsors and down at the collection of ice arrows, which did, in fact, melt. Skrýmir just about managed to scramble out of the way. Ice and fire. They’d need both, wouldn’t they?

Skrýmir jumped and started to climb up the walls, even though they were frozen solid. Of course that would be a thing he could do. He stopped in one of the arched windows, in Tony’s line of sight. “Very well, mortal,” he called out.

“My name is Tony Stark,” he snapped.

“Very well, _Tony Stark_. Our army will be part of your defense grid.”

Down on the ground, Loki smiled at him.

 

#

 

Back in New York, Tony carefully neglected to show relief at being in warmer climates again. Mid-summer, still. Early evening. The gantry started the process of getting him out of his suit. “I better go check how much the others have botched the defense grid so far.”

Loki nodded. He’d reverted back (forth?) to his usual pale skin and green eyes. “It appears they are waiting for you already.”

“Jarvis?”

“Indeed, sir. The Avengers and various associates are in the communal living room.”

So, between them and the workshop. “Which associates?”

“Jane Foster has called Darcy Lewis and Dr Erik Selvig to help her and Thor establish inter-realm communications.”

Selvig. Shit.

Before Tony could think of a request to make Loki vanish directly to the workshop, he’d already pushed past, leaving Tony to scramble after him through the opening doors.

The tableau of the Avengers frozen in place made for an interesting, if somewhat scary view. They’d been in the middle of a discussion. Selvig and Jane were standing up, explaining something or other to Thor, Steve, Natasha, Barton, Sam and some girl that was probably Darcy Lewis. Everyone stared at Loki, who, of course, was grinning.

Selvig moved first, on auto-pilot. He stumbled back, tripped over the sofa, but kept going, to put as much distance between himself and Loki as possible. The others sprang into action as well, Jane ran after him while Natasha and Sam grabbed a hold of Barton and Steve tried to calm the whole situation down by being his authoritative self.

Thor ran over to the door. “Brother! Do you truly think it wise —”

“Truly?” Loki grinned. “Never.” He walked into the room at a leisurely pace, drinking in the scene. God of Chaos, eh? But what had Freyja said? It didn’t work like that.

“What is he doing?” Thor asked Tony.

“What is _Selvig_ doing here?” Tony shot back. “Who thought this was a good idea? You knew Loki would come back here.”

Thor stared, blankly. He evidently hadn’t considered that a problem. He might not even have told Selvig. Great. Tony advanced into the room, but Loki paid him no attention.

“Well, well, well,” Loki called out. “Isn’t this a splendid reunion. Dr Selvig!” The poor man flinched. “I never did get around to thanking you for sabotaging my portal, did I?”

“Everyone, calm down,” Steve said. “We’re all on the same page here, hard as that may be to believe.”

Darcy got up and scrambled into Jane’s direction. Sam was distracted by her movement, which in turn enabled Barton to free a hand and throw another of his knives. Loki whirled in a rush of gold and - vanished. Behind, Darcy shrieked as the knife had just missed her, buried in the wall a bare inch from her head.

“You might want to be careful with your toys, Agent Barton,” said Loki from the other side of the room.

“Loki!” Thor shouted. He’d summoned Mjölnir to his hand, because that usually calmed things right down.

“Clint, for fuck’s sake,” Natasha said.

“How can you be okay with having him on board?” Barton shot back. “On nothing but Stark’s word, no less?”

“Hey,” Tony said. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Loki laughed. “Sometimes, I wonder whether endeavoring to stop ragnarök is a worthwhile undertaking to begin with.”

“See?” Barton shouted over Steve’s attempt to calm everyone down, again. “He’s only using us for whatever ulterior motives!”

Tony made his way over to Loki and glared at him. “What are you even trying to accomplish here?”

Loki shrugged. “I am evaluating.”

With his heart hammering, Tony said, “Evaluating _what_? Who lives and who dies? Not on my watch. Not in my Tower. Don’t, Loki. For once. Just … don’t.”

“Or else _what_ , Stark?”

Tony leaned in, so the others wouldn’t hear. “You said it yourself, to Fenrir and the Other. You said they would not win. And this? Antagonizing the people you’re going to need in the fight? This is _letting Thanos win_.”

Loki flinched as if shot by a repulsor. A reaction, at least. Might have put Tony into lethal danger, but hey. Loki gave a curt nod. He turned around, slowly, and vanished. Right.

Tony could feel the tension in the room behind him, even before he turned to face it. Everyone was staring at him, not least of all Thor.

“Uhm. Nice to be home, guys. You might not believe this, but things went pretty well on Jötunheim. I’ll look at the defense grid in a moment. Just have to check on Loki, you know, make sure he doesn’t blow up the workshop or anything.”

He sprinted for the elevator before anyone could react.

 

#

 

Thankfully, Loki was in the workshop. Immersed in the text hologram, no less. Just now, Loki picked out a word and called up all information that had been thrown into the system - grammatical analysis, synonyms, other occurrences in the Eddic texts (certain and conjectured). His own hologram, the map of Yggdrasil, hovered next to him, perfectly in sync with the technology.

Tony knew Loki knew he was standing there, so prolonging the scene wouldn’t do much good. He cleared his throat. “What part are you looking at, exactly?”

“The ending of Völuspá,” Loki replied, without turning around.

Oh, right. The part where the world was born afresh after the destruction. “That whole joy to the world thing? Wasn’t that supposed to be a Christian interpolation? Too cheerful for old Norse mythology.”

“Perhaps so.” Loki touched a stanza and threw it over for Tony to read.

 

_In wondrous beauty once again_

_Shall the golden tables stand mid the grass,_

_Which the gods had owned in the days of old …_

 

Tables. _Tafl_. That board game no one could quite identify. Why did this ring a bell, though … “Wait, didn’t you find one of those boards? I mean, the thing Byleist gave you on Niflheim?”

“An old Asgardian chequers board, indeed. They have not been in use for centuries.”

Somehow, Tony didn’t like the implications of that. “And now that it’s been found, the circle can start again? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Perhaps.” Loki laughed, for some reason. “Have you never given it any thought? That it might be best to let ragnarök run its course to let it destroy this diseased realm and to let everything be born anew, without pollution, without corruption, without this eternal strife between mankind?”

“Well, um, now that you put it like that …” Tony frowned. “Look, this world might be in pretty bad shape, but that’s not exactly a reason to tear it all to pieces, is it. And if this is a recurring circle, it sure didn’t make Earth perfect in this iteration either, so who’s to say what will happen. I’m definitely not handing over control to Thanos. I get the feeling _he’d_ like to rule a graveyard, which is totally not cool with me.” He advanced on the holographic wall of text that surrounded Loki and shooed it away. “I get the entire chaos instinct thing you have going on, and bringing Selvig here wasn’t a great idea, I admit, but —”

Loki startled him by laughing. “Yes, but not great for _who_?” He reached out and grabbed Tony’s upper arms, holding him firmly in place. “For him, yes, and? Perhaps for _you_? So that you wouldn’t have to be reminded of what I’ve done? If it weren’t for this piece of metal in your body, I would have done the same to you! Just how strong is your affinity to death - or denial? - that you can stand to be in the same room as me, let alone touched by me?”

It wasn’t as if he’d forgotten, but … “It’s probably a bit of both.” In the back of his mind, he wondered where he was going with this. “Affinity to, that is. Denial, yeah, master of that myself. And to death, sure. You know why? Old issue, that. You know, the one where first, you try your best to please everyone, only nothing you ever do is good enough, so you start thinking there’s something wrong with you and it gets worse and worse so that you do your best to push away everyone you care about and make them hate you because you hate _yourself_ so much? I’ve been there. Most days, I’m still there. I know all the tricks. Which is why, I’m sorry to say, your tricks won’t work on me. I should hate you. And believe me, I know that, even without the other Avengers reminding me. But I don’t. So stop trying to make me.”

Not exactly the best pep talk. Loki let him go so suddenly that Tony staggered. He met Loki’s gaze, wide and close to panic. Must’ve hit a mark, somewhere deep down. Tony reached out and hugged him, which wouldn’t stop Loki if he really wanted to leave. Apparently, he didn’t. Loki just gasped, or maybe it was a sob. Tony held him close as he watched, felt, Loki fight for composure, and couldn’t do anything to help. He couldn’t _fix_ this, Tony realized. Nothing could. But he could … be there. So he held on.

“Sirs,” Jarvis piped up. They both flinched. “My sincerest apologies, sirs, but Captain Rogers will be here imminently. Denying him access to the workshop does not appear to be a viable option.”

Tony cursed under his breath, and activated the holograms.

Ten seconds later, when Steve walked in, both Tony and Loki were immersed in the text again, standing at a respectable distance, even.

Steve frowned. “I had to physically stop Thor from entering and throwing Mjölnir around. Please tell me everything is okay down here?”

 _No_ , Tony thought. _Nothing’s ever going to be okay, but I can work with that_. He pushed a phrase of the Reginsmál Loki’s way for analysis before looking up. “Hm? Yeah. Sure. We’re just searching through some additional poems.”

Steve cast a dubious glance at Loki, who ignored him, but other than that looked utterly composed. Trust a diva to always be able to put on a show. Something else Tony knew a thing or two about, himself.

“Barton has calmed down,” Steve said. “No thanks to your friend over here. Darcy is fine, by the way. Also no thanks to him.”

Loki, at last, looked up from his text. “And would Captain America prefer me to do? Allow myself to be stabbed to death?”

“Guys,” Tony said. Who had made him mediator, anyway?

“Fine,” Loki conceded. “I shall not attempt to antagonize any Avenger or associates for the foreseeable future if — and only if, they in return do not attempt to antagonize me. Surely those terms are reasonable enough?”

Steve, thankfully, nodded. “Alright.” He turned to Tony. “We’ve called in every SHIELD agent we could find. Not many, but some. There’ll be a briefing tomorrow at 1100. I expect you to be there. Both of you. And anyone from other realms you can throw in would obviously help.”

“You got it,” Tony said. Loki would just have to make that happen somehow.

Good enough for Steve, who was probably glad to get out of the room. Loki had already focused on the hologram again. Okay. Nope.

“Hey.” Tony walked up to him, through the text.

“Don’t you have a defense grid to consider?”

“Yeah.” Tony sighed. “Back to building weapons of mass destruction. That’s exactly it.”

This time, it was Loki who reached out, threading those slender fingers into Tony’s hair. “You will not make me hate you, either.”

They kissed like drowning men, but that was okay.

 

#

 

They discussed the defense grid. How, where, what. Mostly, it was Tony talking, because this was his area, and Loki asking a few questions.

 _I could get used to this_ , Tony thought, between two sips of coffee. Working with Loki. Not just on inter-realm travel, but … here. On Earth. The thought struck him as mildly disturbing, considering what had happened a few hours ago.

“It needs a name,” Tony said. “The project. What kind of thing in the Völuspá can we use to make this sound cooler?”

Loki frowned, but nodded. “Names are powerful. Thus, I agree.” He called up the text and scrolled through it with his long fingers. “What about …”

Tony leaned over and read the last line of the third stanza, _gap var ginnunga, en gras hvergi_. “The Yawning Void? Isn’t that the primordial chaos before the creation of the Nine Realms?”

“Ginnungagap.” Loki nodded. “The stories indicate it is responsible for the equilibrium of the universe. But note that it is not a proper name. Not in the Völsupá.”

“So we make it one, here and now.” Tony grinned. “I like the sound of that. So the targeting scanner is now the Ginnungagap Protocol?”

Loki returned the grin. “It would appear so.”

“Sirs,” Jarvis interrupted, “ Sergeant Barnes is requesting permission to enter the workshop.”

Oh, right. Probably about that metal arm of his. Which Tony hadn’t exactly forgotten about … There were concepts lying around on some server. “Sure, let him in.”

The door slid open and there stood Bucky Barnes. Tony still hadn’t fully processed that. He wondered how Steve felt about all of this.

“Hi. I didn’t forget about that arm I could take a look at, if you want to, you know.” He waved his own artificial hand.

“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” Barnes said. Was it Tony’s imagination or did Barnes look uncomfortable at the sight of him? “But actually, I wanna talk to _you_.”

He turned to Loki, who raised an eyebrow in what appeared to be genuine puzzlement. “I’m listening?”

Barnes advanced into the room. His stance looked relaxed, but that didn’t make him any less of a weapon. No trace of discomfort, so yeah, that must’ve been imagination. He’d probably cataloged all his surroundings already. The cars, Dum-E, the holograms, what-have-you. Which was bad if he was an inadvertent spy for Hydra. Maybe they should have Hel check that.

“Steve told me,” Barnes said to Loki. “About you and the crazy shit you did. I was in cryo-freeze during the Battle of New York, you see. But he told me other stuff, too. He told me that you did something to make me remember.”

“I was under the impression that this had been your wish.” Tight-lipped and … cautious. So that’s what Loki in defensive mode sounded like. Interesting.

“Yeah,” Barnes said. “Yeah, it was. That’s why I came here.” He grinned. Tony could see him, in there, the Bucky from the stories of his father and Steve. “I wanted to say thank you.”

He offered his hand, the real one. And Loki … Loki stared, dumbfounded, before taking it. Huh.

“… you are quite welcome.”

 

#

 

The next morning, Tony woke up with the vague feeling that something important was going on. He looked across the bed. Empty. But there was a cup of steaming coffee next on his bedside table.

A note next to it said, in elaborate longhand, _I will be present for the meeting and bring some of the others. L._

That had to be the first time in forever that Tony Stark got out of bed with a smile on his face.

 

#

 

“Where the fuck is the bastard?” Barton said. “First he throws a hissing fit and now he’s just gone?”

10.59am in front of Stark Industries’ largest conference room, a few levels down in the Tower.

“He’ll be here. Thor, wait for him, will you?” Tony said. “Let’s rock and roll.”

He stepped into the room with the rest of the Avengers and found himself faced with thirty-odd SHIELD agents. Not a lot, and definitely less than he’d hoped, but if Steve said he’d done his best, then who was Tony to doubt him?

“Hi,” he said. “Thank you all for coming. Although technically, you all work for me now here at Stark Industries, so maybe you should make me Director of SHIELD.”

Next to him, Natasha coughed. Right.

“Anyway. I give to you the man who you might actually consider for the job. I give you Captain America!”

Steve stepped forward to apprehensive glances from the other agents. They probably hadn’t forgotten Hydra’s smear campaign, even if they didn’t believe it. How much did they know about the Winter Solider, though?

Steve didn’t care. In his Captain America show voice, he gave them the run-down on this new threat they were facing. “I realize we’re stretched thin,” he concluded, “but if we don’t deal with this, no one will.”

Some agent put her hand up. “With all due respect, sir, how do we do this by ourselves with a couple of Stark weapons?”

“We’re not exactly alone,” Steve said, and looked over to Tony.

“No, we’re not. You see, I’ve been doing a bit of traveling, to find us some allies in outer space. You know our friendly god of thunder, of course …”

Thor entered the room. Tony could just make out three other figures in the anteroom. Of course, Loki would keep his word ( _of course_?). After Thor, Freyja slid into the room in a magnificent red-and-gold robe that had quite a few people in the room gasp.

Tony smiled. He had this, now. “Allow me to introduce Freyja, Queen of Vanaheim.” She gave him a radiant smile, so he walked over to kiss her cheek. “Who else did he bring?” he whispered into her ear. “Not Hel, I assume?”

Freyja laughed. “No, don’t worry. But he did bring Byleist.”

A frost giant. Right. “And next,” Tony said, “I present you the crown prince of Jötunheim, Byleist.”

A few more pronounced gasp as the frost giant ducked through the door and viewed the proceedings, especially Tony, with some disdain.

“So this means, in case you’re not up to date with inter-realm geopolitics,” Tony said, “What we’ve got here is an alliance of the strongest realms in the universe. We’ve got Asgard,” he indicated Thor, “Vanaheim and Jötunheim. All traditional enemies, of course. And they’ve come together for this cause. Here on Earth. Midgard. Which makes four. Anyone fancy our chances against death, now? Because I do.”

Looking at all these different aliens in his Tower and the awe-struck (or dubious) agents, Tony thought, he actually might. Fancy their chances.

Steve stepped forward. “In the interest of full disclosure, we’re also going to have to acknowledge who brought all these parties to one table. It’s the least likely person in the universe, but he did it all the same. Tony Stark vouches for him. And so do I.” He gestured at the door.

A lot of praise, from Captain America. The agents looked apprehensive, now, and who could blame them?

Loki, as ever, knew how to make an entrance. He swept into the room in a whirl of black leather. Several agents jumped to their feet. Thankfully Natasha had insisted on confiscating all the guns beforehand.

“Why, thank you for the welcome, Captain Rogers.” He grinned at Steve. “And for the confidence.” He nodded at Tony, who returned it.

Some of the agents started shouting, one, in particular, “You expect us to trust _him_?”

At the very least, it amused Byleist. “You really have a hand for making people like you, don’t you?”

“It’s his strongest suit,” Tony replied with a grin. Loki blinked at him.

“Hey,” Barton shouted over the confusion. Uh-oh. “Now, I realize this is a tough ask. Believe me it’s taken me some time to warm up to this idea, and you might know that I’m the last person in the room with any reason to go along —”

He stopped short when the door slid open again. There wasn’t anyone left to come in here, and no one had the security clearance … Everyone facing the door looked like they’d seen a ghost, though. Tony turned as well. Oh. Yes. A ghost.

“ _Phil_?” Barton croaked.

“That’s Director to you now,” he replied, smooth as ever, in one of his stupid suits, and alive, shit, how was that even possible? Not that Tony was complaining, but … “Hi,” he went on. “I think the last person with any reason to go along should be me, yes?”

All the agents stared at him. Because, yes, he was definitely the last person.

Loki seemed no less surprised than the rest. Phil turned to him. “Mr Laufeyson.”

“Director Coulson,” Loki replied, voice carefully guarded. They looked at each and something passed between them. Tony couldn’t tell what, but Phil came out smiling at the end of it.

“So,” Phil said. “Where are we on the defense grid?”

 

#


	10. Chapter 10

After all this, Tony felt relieved at the idea of traveling to another realm. Steve had protested, pulled the “you’re our weapon expert” card again, but Tony had insisted. Apart from the fact that the manufacturers could barely keep up with demand during the past weeks anyway, his defense had been, “Like it or not, Loki and me seem to work together alright, so why change a running system?”

The jury was still out on whether Steve agreeing was a good sign or a bad one.

Either way, Tony accompanied Loki to Alfheim. He’d heard this realm mentioned a couple of time, and there was the obvious connection about alf and elf, but other than that, Tony didn’t know what to expect. There wasn’t much in the Edda, either. At least, there’d been no portents of his imminent demise from Thor. Loki didn’t tell him to suit up, either.

They materialized on a high vantage point again. Tony had begun to suspect this might be for his benefit. He blinked the green landscape beneath him into focus. And _green_ really was the way to describe it. A lush forest, on gently sloping hills, around a two-tiered building constructed of arches so delicate and lacy they glimmered silver in the morning sun. Somewhere close, Tony could hear a stream tickling past, and birds singing.

Next to him, Loki inhaled deeply. “I have not visited this realm in quite a while. I forgot how beautiful it was.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “Is that the royal palace?”

“The Council. They’re quite democratic, on Alfheim. But that is where we will go, yes.”

They made their way down through the forest. This realm didn’t seem too dangerous, on first sight. But they were here to forge an alliance, weren’t they? So Alfheim would have something worth having to contribute. What, bows and arrows? Tony really should stop with the Tolkien stuff. But, hadn’t Tolkien been one of these philologists who’d read too much Norse mythology? Oh, whatever.

Birds were singing, still. Now that they were in the forest, Tony could spot some, or at least he saw flashes of colors every now and then, up in the trees, red and blue and yellow and everything in between. Their song didn’t sound like anything he’d ever heard on Earth, but then, he wasn’t on Earth, and he’d never been much of a one for nature, anyway.

Loki led with sure steps. Just how much time had he spent traveling? Or bringing war to other realms with Thor, judging by the tales on Nidavellir. Hm. Tony hoped for a friendly reception. Vanaheim had been strange, and alien, and Jötunheim had, too, but this green-and-silver frailness was getting to Tony. There were structures built into the trees as well, bridges and little outlooks and possibly traps, but they looked as if they broke at the slightest touch. Maybe they should have come here for that silk band, the impossible-to-break fetter for Fenrir. Well, impossible until ragnarök.

“So what’s the mood around these parts, then?” Tony asked.

“They’re friendly. But careful. And they are right to be.”

“Why? Because Asgard might fancy another bit of the good old invasion game?”

“Among other things,” Loki said, with his eyes fixed ahead. Tony could just about see the tip of the palace structure ( _the council_ ) rise above the treetops.

They walked on. More birds were singing. Tony also spotted something that looked suspiciously like a fox, only it was silver and black. It had vanished again within the blink of an eye.

The door of the palace rose between two trees. No yard of any kind in front of it. How did one see an enemy approaching that way? Not the most fortified building in the world, this council. For no reason at all, the image of the Triskelion in smoking ruins rose in Tony’s mind.

Loki extended a hand and rapped, with his knuckles, on the white door. Lightly, and only once.

The door swung open. Alright then.

A green hallway welcomed them. It didn’t seem like they’d stepped inside in the first place, except that the green was, on close inspection, a wall decorated with flower ornaments. Tony didn’t want to watch out for mistletoe, though.

In the middle of the corridor stood a person, he realized. That had to be one of the elves, right? A women, by the looks of her, in a silvery dress, in sharp contrast to her dark skin.

“Loki Silvertongue,” she said, with a light voice that resembled bird song. “We did not expect you to come here.”

“Nellas,” he replied. “But you are aware of … proceedings?”

“Indeed. Freyr arrived here a short time ago, to call the Council. We have already passed the motion of assisting you in every way.”

Freyr. Tony stood up a little straighter at the name. Yes, of course, Freyr. In the Edda, there was some uncertainty as to whether Alfheim was a realm, or the name of Freyr’s hall, or both.

“I am glad to hear that,” Loki said. Sure thing. “I merely came to ascertain. Is Freyr, by any chance, still here?” Oh, and there was a tinge of testiness in the last bit.

“You have just missed him, I’m afraid,” Nellas said. Tony let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “You are welcome to our Council, of course. And you,” she turned, “must be Tony Stark.”

“Yep, that’s me.” People knew his name now. Across the realms. Right. “Nice to meet you. Never been to this part of Yggdrasil before.”

“Then we are all the more pleased to welcome you.”

“Thanks. Glad to be here.”

“We should talk to you about the weapons, yes?”

And of course that’s what he’d be famous for … well, it still might be better than anything else Freyr could’ve told them … How had he ended up in inter-realm politics after all?

“Yeah. Weapons expert. That’s me.”

“We’re glad to hear it.” She smiled. “If you could kindly follow me …”

They were led down the green corridor into an assembly hall whose set-up made Tony think of tedious government committees, even though all the furniture, such as the large table and chairs, were made of glass, or something like it. They probably wouldn’t break as easily. The walls were … transparent, Tony realized. The green was actual forest, visible through the walls. A dozen or so elves rose to meet them, all in silver garb and dark skin like Nellas.

“More visitors?” One of the men smiled at them. “What a peculiar pair the two of you make.”

“Keeps people on their toes,” Tony said.

It made at least half the chamber laugh.

The man introduced himself as Lindir and went through the rest as well, though Tony couldn’t promise to keep all those names straight. Next, Lindir conjured up a large map of Alfheim. Whether by magic or by science, Tony couldn’t tell. There were several red spots on it. That couldn’t be good.

“Raiders?” Loki asked.

“Scouts,” Nellas supplied. “It seems that Thanos has been informed about this realm being easy prey.”

“I guess he’s in for a bit of a surprise?” Tony more asked than stated.

The elves smiled. Nellas waved her hand and a holographic battle scene took the place of the map. A recording, it looked like. Blue-skinned aliens in black armor could be seen attacking with a variety of weapons, mostly hammers with long handles.

“Kree outcasts,” Loki said. “Thanos gathered quite a number of those whose ideas were too radical, too savage for the Kree Empire. Which is saying something.”

Another people from beyond the Nine Realms, then. The universe was, after all, infinite …

Those Kree certainly knew how to handle their weapons. But then, Tony was relieved to discover, so did the elves. Their slight, black figures might flutter between the bulky Kree, and their bows and swords might look as if a child could snap them, but they hit their targets with unerring certainty. A Kree took one slim arrow to the throat and just … exploded. Barton was going to enjoy this.

The recording ended on a battlefield littered with Kree remains. But that had only been one raiding party. And Tony could see dead elves, too, crushed beneath the blue bodies.

So they talked weapons. What did Alfheim have, what did the other realms offer, and how would it all work out. Tony was reluctant to admit it to himself, but yes, he was in his element. Elves made excellent wine, too. Better than the Vanir one. And excellent food, though he wouldn’t remember what he’d eaten later. He didn’t even notice how the time passed, until he looked up and saw that night had fallen outside. He rubbed his eyes. He supposed he was tired.

“We could continue this tomorrow,” Nellas said. “If you can spare another day.”

Loki … didn’t reply. Instead, he looked at Tony. For an answer. Okay.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “The manufacturers on Midgard will be glad for a chance to catch up.”

And so the decision was made.

 

#

 

Nellas led them to a guest room. One room, singular, which also looked like someone’s silver dream of art nouveau. “If you need anything at all, please just ring the bell.”

“Thank you,” Loki replied.

They were left alone. Loki made straight for the balcony. Tony remained standing in the middle of the room. There was no logical reason why they would stay the night, and in fact, there’d been no reason for them to come at all. Which Loki must have known, or at least suspected. Hm.

He followed Loki outside.

From the second level of the council, the view across the everlasting forest was nothing short of spectacular. Moonlight reflected off the glass structures of this building and several observation posts throughout the trees. Small circles of light hovered throughout the woods, maybe large fireflies, maybe lamps, maybe magic … Trees swayed gently in the wind to accompany the song of a nightingale.

As he moved to stand next to Loki, Tony didn’t want to disturb this picture by talking just yet. His question would have been, _why are we here, really_ , but looking at all this, and at Loki, leaning casually onto the railing, pale but ah so beautiful in the moonlight, he had his answer anyway. He took a deep breath of forest air. This meditation thing Pepper had been going on about last year … it might work with this in mind.

This was also the first evening for some time he was spending with Loki without having to worry about immediate threats, psychological trauma, the Avengers or frost giants. No, this was what peace had to feel like. Tony breathed deeply, again. He’d get bored of this realm within two days, he knew, but for this one evening, peace seemed alright.

Alfheim, then. The fifth realm he’d seen. How many people could say that? It had been Loki’s strategy to get him to listen, he remembered. In Niflheim. _Aren’t you the least bit curious as to what this realm looks like?_ Loki had known how to get to Tony, even in the early days. Because even without threats of imminent danger, he would have gone along with it. Just to see what would happen. Where it would happen. And how. And maybe then worry about the why.

“Thank you,” he managed, eventually.

Loki half turned to him, questioning. “Whatever for?”

“For showing me this.” Tony gestured across the forest. “Actually, for showing me all of these realms. Even, you know, Nidavellir. I mean, yeah, there’s this intergalactic overlord we’ve got to take care of, but that sure has some handsome fringe benefits.”

“Fringe benefits?” Loki chuckled. “But I suppose you are right, yes. I have always enjoyed traveling, myself. The things I’ve seen … Imagine this forest in autumn, Stark. Harvest on Vanaheim. The solstice aurora on Jötunheim. To say nothing of further afield, beyond the Nine Realms, the things I could to show you …” He trailed off, eyes fixed into the distance.

“I’d like that,” Tony said. “If you could, I mean, do that. Show me. Stuff. Erm.”

He wanted it all, of course. To see whatever was out there. And crucially, he realized, he wanted to see it all _with Loki_. After Vanaheim, they hadn’t really discussed this relationship of sorts, and even that had scarcely been a discussion. There’d been no mention in the future tense. Except, _You won’t make me hate you either …_

The future was a dangerous thing to contemplate, anyway. Tony couldn’t discard the possibility that Loki would snap again and decided to go after one of those many thrones after all. On the other hand … _I have always enjoyed traveling_. Settling down on one throne of one realm … From what Tony had witnesses so far, wouldn’t that be a step _down_?

Since Loki didn’t seem inclined to reply, which might be for the best, Tony did what he always did. He rambled on. “Anyway, what are those lights out there in the forest?”

Loki held out right hand to Tony. In a green swirl, a silvery octagonal candle the size of his palm appeared.

“Magic burns those candles in eternal resurrection. Light it, Stark.”

 _But how_ , Tony didn’t ask. He reached out and took the candle off Loki’s palm. It tingled. Not wax, no, something more fluid, more … magical. Fire, he thought. Nothing happened. But magic, he recalled, operated beyond words. How did one think about anything, without words? Tony thought about fire, let himself sink into the concept, until it ceased to be f-i-r-e, until he could …

The wick lit up. It didn’t radiate any heat, but crackled like a real candle.

“Did I just …?”

“Draw on this forest’s innate magic?” Loki smiled. “Yes. They’re not so different at the end of the day, your science and my magic. Now, let it go.”

Tony took his hands away. The candle floated in the air in front of him. Something pushed, no, tugged at him, a small burst of energy. He pushed back, somehow, gently. The candle drifted upwards, and away above the railing and to one of the nearby trees, where it hovered in the air and glowed brightly, to illuminate the path beneath.

“Alfheim will provide light for you always, now,” Loki whispered.

Did that mean he would return? In autumn, or any time? With Loki?

“Thank you,” Tony said. For the second time in a matter of minutes. Had to be a record.

“You did that all by yourself.” Loki reached out with his right hand and cupped Tony’s cheek. His palm felt warm.

“Mhmm. Not all of it.”

Fire, yes. They would go to Muspelheim next. Make more weapons in between. But not tonight …

 

#

 

They returned from Alfheim the next evening, somewhat high on that wine Lindir had insisted on serving during the tactics talk. They half-stumbled into the bedroom, laughing and shedding clothes along the way. For once, stuff was going right. Which meant the next catastrophe was surely just around the corner, but for the moment …

“Welcome home, sirs,” Jarvis said. “Mr Stark, may I point out that Captain Rogers has left a message for you, to visit his quarters at your earliest possible convenience.”

Tony groaned. Of course. “Yeah, thanks, whatever, tell him my earliest convenience is tomorrow, I’m exhausted.”

“Are you, now?” Loki bit down on his neck.

“Continue with that and I will be. In a good way.”

Loki, obediently enough, set to work on Tony’s neck, while undoing his belt at the same time. Multitasking, yep, useful skill to have … Loki slid to his knees before him and hells, Tony would never get enough of that sight —

“Sir, I have Captain Rogers on the line. He is rather insistent.”

Tony’s head hit the wall behind him. Ouch. Loki peered up at him, waiting. “It’s not a matter of life and death, is it?”

“Captain Rogers says, and I quote, ‘not as such’.”

“Then it can wait until tomorrow, I’m busy. Busy sleeping, I mean. Getting into bed. Shit, Jarvis, just shut up. Block all communications.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony looked to meet Loki’s expectant gaze. “You know, that doesn’t include you, a blowjob doesn’t qualify as communication.”

“Doesn’t it?”

But that was, thankfully, the last thing Loki said.

 

#

 

The next morning, Tony woke up with the lingering sense that he’d forgotten something important. Steve … Steve had wanted to talk to him. About something … pretty important … probably. Tony sighed. When he looked around, he found the bed empty.

“Jarvis?”

“Good morning, sir. It is 09:14am in New York City, on Earth. Mr Laufeyson is currently in the workshop, perusing the manuscript scans.”

Tony huffed. Sometimes, it was scary how well Jarvis knew him.

“Tell him I’ll be down in a moment. I’ll bring coffee, too. Just got to go find Steve first and, uh, apologize.”

“Done, sir. Captain Rogers is currently in the kitchen with Sergeant Barnes and Agent Romanoff.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

 

#

 

When he walked into the kitchen, Tony found himself face-to-face with Bucky Barnes. Right.

“Hi,” he said. “Listen, is Steve still around? I think I accidentally pissed him off. Again, I mean. He wanted to talk to me, I think?”

“No,” Barnes said. “I did.”

O-kay. Was this about the arm? “Well, uh, here I am?”

Barnes gave him a measuring look. He wore his hair shorter now, less like the single-minded assassin and more like the guy who’d gunned down Nazis with Captain America. But a killer all the same. Just like the rest of the Avengers, then.

“I knew your father,” he said.

“Yeah, I know that.” Tony frowned. Something in the tone sounded off. “He talked about you a lot, you know. Not just about Steve.”

Barnes didn’t show any reaction to that. Probably not a good sign. “There’s something else that I keep meaning to tell you. Something I remembered. He worked for SHIELD, did Howard. You knew that, too. He worked for SHIELD big time. He got on Hydra’s radar in a bad way and …”

Hydra had him killed. Shit. Tony swallowed. This possibility should have occurred to him before and —

But Barnes wasn’t finished. “Howard was famous, so it had to be an accident. He was dangerous, so Hydra had to be absolutely sure. Which meant that Hydra sent their best asset after Howard Stark.”

Comprehension tugged at the edge of Tony’s mind. He stared at Barnes, who held his gaze. _No_. He took an involuntary step backwards. _Oh no_. “You,” he croaked. “Hydra’s best asset, that was … you.” Another step. “You killed my parents.”

Barnes nodded.

Tony couldn’t breathe. There was no air in the room, no _space_ , Barnes was standing right there and _shit_. Tony turned on his heel and ran.

 

#

 

He sat on top of his Tower, in the spot where the portal had stood. Looking out across New York City, for the first time, he wondered what his father would have made of it all. The Tower. Iron Man. The Avengers. And now …

Gravel crunched behind him. Someone had stepped onto the roof. For one crazy moment, Tony thought, _If this is Barnes I might just jump …_

“Stark.”

What was _Loki_ doing here? “Leave me alone.”

“As you wish.”

Another crunch. Leaving. Of course. Tony was alone. With his demons. As usual.

“Wait.”

The sound stopped. “Yes?”

“I, uhm …”

He didn’t know. He just … didn’t know.

Crunch, crunch, crunch went the gravel. Loki settled down next to Tony. In front, he placed a cup of coffee. Tony almost laughed. He drank with his eyes fixed on New York. The coffee had just a taste of scotch in it. Hmm.

Tony leaned against Loki, who threw an arm around him and drew him close without saying a single word.

 _Here’s to you, Dad_ , he thought. _Finally. Here is to you._

 

#

 

Tony didn’t know how much time passed. He just sat there, occasionally sipping his coffee. He wondered whether he had ever grieved for his parents. He remembered some Stark Industries employee whose name he’d forgotten finding him and telling him. He’d been out drinking. He remembered numbness. That was all. He’d worked. All the time. There’d been no time for grief. And Howard Stark, well …

“Hm,” Loki said. “They seem worried about you. Agent Romanoff is on her way up here.”

“Oh.” Tony couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“I suppose you don’t want her to find me here.” Without inflection, but it stung.

“Wait.” But Tony had already lost his balance due to the sudden lack of body to lean against. He sighed. Loki had even taken the empty cup away.

There was another crunch on the gravel. She wanted to be heard, of course.

“Hi,” Tony said. Couldn’t tell her he knew it was her.

“Hi, Stark,” she said.

“I’m not going to jump off,” he said. “You know, on the off-chance that you’re worried about me and not Mr Super Soldier Sidekick.”

“I doubt he’s a mere sidekick.”

She came closer and sat down next to him, but at a respectable distance. Tony’s side felt very cold.

“I don’t blame him,” he felt obliged to point out. “You know. For my parents. What with the brainwashing and all.” Come to think of it, Barnes probably felt worse about this than Tony, after all, he’d remembered that he’d killed his _friend_.

Natasha didn’t reply. There’d been speculation. About this Russian brainwashing program. Maybe he should read up on those SHIELD files that were dumped on the Internet. Natasha’s whole life would be in there. Somehow, that felt like cheating.

“I worked with Barnes,” she said. “Back in Russia. I didn’t know he was an American war hero. He … He trained me.”

“Oh,” Tony said. That kind of made sense. It explained why she’d been sort of worried about him, when he’d come in. As much as Natasha could be worried, anyway. Also, why she hadn’t told Steve. Small world, though, at the end of the day.

“How are things with Loki?”

Oh, great. “The defense grid is coming along alright, isn’t it. Alfheim was fun, actually. And if you want to call me a hypocrite because I’m working with him but getting upset with your darling Barnes, just … stop.”

“They’re your parents, Tony,” she pointed out, as if that explained everything.

He tried to imagine what Natasha’s parents might have been like. He failed miserably. And anyway, he’d had enough of his conversation. Tony stood. He wobbled only a little. Alcohol, eh. And all these floors of this really high building he really didn’t want to tumble off. He’d had enough of _falling_.

“I’ve got work to do,” he said, by way of explanation. Natasha peered up at him. She might have been more worried about Barnes, but still, she’d come and checked up on him. “Thanks, anyway.”

With that, he made his way back down. Work to do. Yes. Always more work to do. _So long, Dad,_ he thought. _Got to build the biggest defense grid known to mankind. Deal with it._

 

#

 

Tony made his way down to the workshop again. Loki was there, collating manuscripts. He looked up. “Stark. Does my use of this appellation cause you distress?”

“Duh, from all the distressing things you get up to, I think the use of _my name_ is pretty far down the list.”

Loki frowned. “On the contrary. Names are some of the most important words there are. To name something is the first step towards understanding it. To defining it, that is, to shape or, if need be, to limit it. Never underestimate the power a name can evoke.”

“Uh-huh.”

Tony looked at Loki, of Jötunheim, Loki Laufeyson, Liesmith, Silvertongue and God of Chaos. Hm. Couple of centuries of tradition went into that. Not too shabby.

“You know what ‘Stark’ stands for?” he asked. “I’ll tell you. Weapons. Limitless arrogance, too. Daredevil behavior. But mostly weapons. Thanks to my Dad. And me.”

Merchant of Death. Iron Man. Anthony Edward Stark. The Mechanic. Avenger. Words upon words.

Loki asked, “What do you _want_ me to call you?”

“Uhm … I’ve kinda gotten used to the whole ‘Stark’ thing from you, even though that’s mostly what people use when they’re pissed off at me. So if you want to, go ahead and call me that. It _is_ my name after all. But just Tony will do, I guess.”

“Tony,” Loki whispered.

Okay.

 

#

 

They worked.

Basically, that was it. For four week or maybe five, Tony busied himself with building a planet-wide defense grid. With SHIELD almost gone, he had to draw on Stark Industries resources, quite a lot actually, but if this didn’t work, there would be no more Stark Industries anyway. At least, the coordination was left to Steve and other people who could actually face haggling with Skrýmir over troop strengths. It was Natasha who successfully stood Earth’s ground on the tactics over Vanaheim.

Tony built weapons. And arc reactors, to power a defense grid. All on the clock, but an uncertain schedule. In the other corner of the workshop, Loki was going through all Eddic material available, on the hunt for clues they might have overlooked so far.

This worked out far better than Tony would have anticipated, had he been asked about an arrangement of this kind in advance. Of course, he’d have rejected the entire idea of working with Loki as flat-out ridiculous, to begin with.

Instead, it felt … comfortable. Loki didn’t seem to mind Tony talking to Jarvis or plain old ranting to himself (or both). Tony found out Loki was just as bad at remembering to eat and sleep, though he of course bore it better. They met in the middle with findings at random intervals, gulping down coffee and Tony gesturing around his holographic grid or Loki with his text.

They were making progress. But would it be enough to beat ragnarök, the destined end of all things?

“Destiny,” Tony said. He tapped against the word in the Völsupá. “For Baldur. ‘The son of Othin, his destiny set.’ Sure seems like a central point to me.”

Loki pointed at the Old Norse text. “ _Örlög_. Destiny, or fate.”

“That could be singular or plural, right? Isn’t there one translation that goes, ‘his fates set hidden’? I think scholars take it to mean death and resurrection, but Skuld told me the future would never be set. There has to be a way out of this. I know on Asgard there’s always this inevitability about everything, and I don’t even want to know how much stuff goes excused by ‘there’s no other way,’ but … there just _has_ to be.”

“Always a way out.” Loki smiled. “You taught me that.”

 

#

 

Tony stared at the map of Yggdrasil which Jarvis had saved up together with the rest, even though this was Loki’s magic. _They’re not so different after all …_

To the lower left, a sea of fire. Muspelheim. Tony magnified the entire ‘map’ and zoomed in on it. The fire burned brightly. Somewhere behind the smoke, he could make out the silhouette of a building. Another castle, probably. Tony remembered the vision of these flames descending on Asgard. Sutur, and Hel. Those were the dangers during ragnarök. Well, the dangers to Asgard. But without Asgard, the rest would fall. What chance did Midgard have? Except they’d averted the Chitauri perfectly well almost by themselves.

Hm. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. He might need more coffee before proceeding. Who could tell what would happen, anymore? King Baldur was still alive, after all, but Fenrir was already dead and there remained that question of how Hydra worked as an interpretation of the Midgard Serpent. They could have some connection to Thanos, which would explain how they’d stayed hidden from SHIELD’s monitors. And Tony’s. Or maybe that had just been Zola. Still. If even one of those SHIELD agents was dirty … Coulson had personally vouched for every one of them, and brought in his remaining team as well, including one fairly tech-savvy girl called Sky or something, but if the past years were anything to go by … don’t trust anyone?

Well. Which had to be why he was working with Loki. Clearly. That’s who he had ‘vouched for,’ after all.

“Hey.” He turned around. Loki was immersed in the texts, again. The skald poetry included in the Poetic Edda. No direct relation to ragnarök, but it was in the Codex Regius, so just in case …

“What is it?”

Tony pointed at the map. “What are we going to do about Muspelheim?”

Loki sighed. “Sutur is not much of a team player.”

“But either of us is?”

A short-lived smile, better than nothing. “I realize that the fire of Muspelheim is singularly important to ragnarök. Not only is it the final downfall of Asgard, it also weaves through the narrative from beginning to end, as one of the primal elements … It also happens to be assigned a Norse epithet, a kenning, as it were, which occurs rarely in the Edda … it’s called the scourge of branches.”

“Yeah, well. If you want Yggdrasil standing at the end of this, seems to me we can’t go on ignoring Muspelheim. So let’s go there and get the lay of the land. If anything, that might give us some ideas how to make them work with us.”

“It might get us killed.”

“And when has that ever stopped you before?”

They looked at each other, while Loki thought it over. “Fine,” he concluded. “I concede that I am unlikely to come up with a viable plan. So we might as well go. I will require some rest, though. The realm does not agree with my magic an awful lot.”

Frost giant. Right. There had been that question in scholarship whether Loki was the god of fire, because _logi_ was the flame, but then, Tony couldn’t see how that would work out.

“Okay, we’ll go tomorrow?”

Loki nodded. And so they settled that. Hopefully, by this point, none of the Avengers would argue the strategy.

 

#

 

Turned out they didn’t.

Tony spent the evening working on the suit. Humans couldn’t survive in the conditions on Muspelheim, apparently. Cozy thought. Loki conjured up fire of adequate strength for simulation ( _god of fire_?), and the suit now held up alright, but for a prolonged stay? Well, they’d just have to get this over with quickly.

 

#

 

As Tony climbed into bed that night, the room was heavy with anticipation ( _dread_ ).

“So, _are_ you the god of fire as well?”

No immediate response; instead, the raised eyebrow. The one that said, _what mortal nonsense is this?_

“Okay,” Tony said, “there’s this theory, there are some parts in the Edda where your name is mentioned in connection to fire, so these scholars theorized that it’s two distinct deities who got mixed up over time, you know, Loki and Logi, but then of course there’s this whole frost giant thing, which doesn’t seem to go so well with fire and —”

He stopped when Loki sat up and his hand caught fire. Okay. Maybe Tony shouldn’t have mentioned it. But then again, Loki didn’t seem bothered. His upturned palm wasn’t really on fire, either. He was holding a fireball in his palm. Because he could. Right.

“Hold your hand above it.”

Tony blinked. His hand. Above a magical flame. Totally something he should do. To top it all off, beneath the casual command to get his hand burned, another question loomed, an unsettling one he had ignored for some time now. _Do you trust me?_

Well, he could ignore it for a while longer. It might have ceased to matter, anyway.

Tony positioned his artificial hand about a yard above Loki’s. No heat. He lowered the hand, slowly, expecting the heat to take out the tech any minute now, but nothing happened. He stopped when he was almost touching the flame, and yet, nothing. Magical fire, spelled to … not burn.

When he looked up, he found Loki watching him intently. What had that been about underlying questions?

“Now, hold out your other hand.”

This time, Tony didn’t hesitate before stretching his real hand out, parallel to the other. Loki moved his other palm to meet it, but stopped just short of contact. Instead of conjuring fire, however, this hand started to turn … blue. Tony stared. The frost giant thing. Bitter cold seeped from Loki’s palm. Tony could feel icy spikes pinching his skin despite not touching it. If he were, he’d have a serious frostbite already. The blue hand was … burning.

“Well. _Am_ I the god of fire? You tell me, Tony.”

Yes. No. Who cared? Tony looked down at his two hands, the artificial one above the magical flame, the natural one above a Jötunn palm. Without moving the hands, he leaned forward and kissed Loki. That had to be answer enough, whatever the question had been.

 

#


	11. Chapter 11

The HUD showed … fire. They had materialized on some sort of ledge again, in as much that it was a cliff sticking out, marginally, above this sea of flames. Right ahead, the HUD displayed the stone structure from the map, a long, red rock with various spikes protruding from it. Not much environment to take in. Just … fire. Tony had the HUD scan for any forms of life, but the flames were throwing off interference. Probably as magical as the snow on Jötunheim.

Another upgrade was definitely in order. If Loki told him how to analyze magic. By now, Tony couldn’t exclude the possibility that he would. Strange thought, at the end of the day. If the Avengers ever needed to go against Loki again … A course of events he could not disregard, and Loki had to know it. If it came to that, what would Tony do? For one scary moment, he _didn’t know_. Then he discarded the entire notion for the sake of his sanity. If it came to that, he’d deal with it then.

Speaking of whom …

Loki stood upright, but only just. With his arms tightly hugged around himself and his face covered with sweat, he was fighting to remain on his feet.

“ _That’s_ what you call ‘not agreeing an awful lot’? Bullshit. I bet you knew exactly how much this would affect you! Why didn’t you tell me? I could have …” Tony stopped short in his ranting. Yes, what could he have done? Given Loki a suit? Yeah, right. There were limits. “I could have brought a fan or something.”

Loki laughed. Hoarse, but better than nothing. “Spare your anger for Sutur. We’re about to have company.” With visible effort, he straightened up.

The HUD still had nothing in terms of other life forms. Tony looked around. In the corner of his display, he saw Loki split into two. The clone promptly vanished. What …? Probably Loki’s insurance. In case someone killed this version of him. How reassuring. It had left Loki even worse for the wear, though. His chest heaved with an effort to extract enough oxygen from the sizzling air.

The flames in front of Tony moved. Shapes emerged from them. People, he realized. People who seemed to consist entirely of fire, just like he’d seen in this vision of Asgard burning. They had extremities, yes, and on close inspection, they had faces, too, a smirking mouth and black eyes.

“Well, well, well,” one of them said. “Someone’s got a death wish.”

They advanced, two on each of them. Loki didn’t even try to put up a fight, so Tony didn’t either. The fire giants carried them away, towards the stone structure, making their way through the flames in huge leaps, almost melting into the surrounding flames at times. Looked pretty useful, that technique. Tony hoped he’d get out of this alive to have a closer look at the readings his HUD was taking.

The stone structure wasn’t a fortress, Tony realized as they came closer. It was the edge of a crater. The fire giants dragged them up towards it. About to be tossed into a volcano, were they? What a glorious death …

Well, not yet. The procession stopped just short. Tony peered into the crater, anyway. Oh. Not so much a volcano, but … a forge? It was hard to make out with all those flames throwing off interference, but there might be dwarves down there, and fire giants, working on something huge, some kind of battering ram maybe.

Loki said, “You think destroying the Bifröst is a good idea?”

Someone, but not their captors, roared with laughter. Tony turned, as much as the grip on his arms allowed it, to witness a tall figure materializing out of the flames around them.

“Sutur,” Loki acknowledged. The king of Muspelheim himself? Great.

At least, their captors stepped back. No chance of escape, anyway. Sutur had brought a couple more giants with him, too. What was the plan here? Loki had to have _something_.

“Well,” Sutur said. He cast one glance at Tony before focusing on Loki. “The fallen prince of Asgard. And a frost giant, to boot. Are you that desperate to die?”

Loki’s face twisted into something approximating a smirk. “On the contrary. I have come to ascertain that you are not. This alliance with Thanos … It will not end well. It never does.”

Again, Sutur roared with laughter. “And you’d be the expert, of course.”

Loki managed a shrug. “I am an expert on what it takes to destroy a realm. All this, to take out Asgard while everyone is occupied elsewhere? It might work, at that. But will it be worth the price?”

Just what they needed, one of the realms trying to take advantage of the situation. Probably to be expected … Sutur sure looked as if burning down the galaxy sounded like a good time to him.

“How would _you_ know? You’ve never succeeded with anything.” Sutur advanced. He grabbed Loki by the throat and raised him up. Tony flinched. Loki’s hands flew to his throat, but he had no realistic chance of breaking that grip. “Who’s to say it’s not _you_ who’s using this situation to their advantage, hm, Liesmith?”

Loki couldn’t answer. Shit, he could barely breathe.

“Hey,” Tony said. “Sutur. I might not be up to speed with Destroying Realms 101, but I’m fairly sure that making a deal with the devil, i.e. Thanos, to achieve your goal, that really won’t work out.”

Sutur turned. He didn’t let go of Loki, but better than no reaction. “Who are you to warn anyone of making a deal with the devil? Look where it got you.” He shook Loki like a doll. “Do you, a mere mortal, presume to control this lying piece of trash?”

Loki writhed in the grip. He was running out of time here.

“Control?” Tony said. “That’s an emphatic no. And why would I want to, anyway? I mean, sure, he can lie to me and stab me in the back if it’s convenient. He’s pulled a couple of stunts on me already, and fairly recently, too. But the thing is, so what. That’s who he is and I accept that. I _respect_ that, even. Most of the time, it’s fun, you know. Keeps me on my toes. I went into this with my eyes open and here I am.”

Sutur was laughing again. Loki stared. Ah well. He did, however, prise one hand off Sutur’s death grip and made a small twirling gesture to Tony. _Go on_. In other words, _Distract him, I’ve got a plan. Which I didn’t tell you about, of course. But I got this._ Inside his suit, Tony smiled.

“Yes,” Sutur said, “Here you are. About to die. How very heroic of you.”

“I’m Tony Stark. I don’t die that easily.”

“Is that what _he_ told you?” Sutur gave the gasping Loki another shake.

“No, that’s experience talking here. You know, it’s kind of funny, how people keep warning me to stay away from Loki. It’s as if they think I don’t understand who he is, like I’m holding out hope for him to see the error of his ways. Tell you what, I’ve had more than enough people trying to correct the numerous errors of _my_ ways. I admit that there are many, but I’m so _done_ with that.”

His HUD registered movement. A familiar figure was creeping up behind the other fire giants, whose attention was focused on him and Sutur. _Go on._

“So, anyway, I know exactly what Loki is capable of. I respect that, too. I’m under no illusions whatsoever. But you are, flame guy. Because Thanos might think you’re convenient, but at the end of the day, he’s not someone you make a deal with. He’ll just destroy Muspelheim last. Any illusions about that? He’s got infinity stones, he can probably freeze hell over while he’s at it, so he can extinguish these flames, easily. His alliance is with fire? Don’t be ridiculous. You might be fire but _he_ is _death_. Ever thought about that?”

It gave Sutur pause, but he didn’t let go of Loki, who was seriously struggling for breath now. Not to mention Sutur’s skin had to be burning him. Could Tony risk firing his repulsor at Sutur? And what had that clone been up to?

Before Tony could run another scan, something hit him hard in the back. The suit creaked at the impact. Outside temperature went through the roof. Repulsor it was. Tony whirled around, shot the attacker and hurled him backwards into the crater.

 _Loki_.

Tony spun again, but Sutur had let go. Probably because Sutur was busy fighting off fire giants as well, which he did with a huge flaming sword he’d produced out of nowhere. Alright. But still, Loki … The HUD located him, crumpled to the ground, a few yards away from Sutur and in acute danger of getting trampled, or shoved into the forge. Tony shot another fire giant bent on attacking him, then scooted over and shook Loki’s shoulder. The throat and palms were badly burned from Sutur’s grip.

“Loki! Wake up, damn it!”

Tony almost didn’t realize another fire giant was onto them, until the proximity alert of his suit blared on ear-shattering volume. He looked up to find himself face to face with the attacker. Was that a trace of crazy blue where the dark eyes should be? Never mind. Tony shot that one, too, again and again, until the giant disintegrated into smaller flames. Served him right.

Back to the important bit. “Loki, come on!” He wasn’t panicking, he wasn’t … “I know you’re not dead, and I know you can’t help yourself with tricking people, but still, do me a favor and wake up!”

A groan from Loki. Alive. Of course. Tony exhaled. He shot another fire giant, almost on auto-pilot. Loki opened his eyes and scrambled to his feet, wincing when his burnt palms touched the ground. Tony got up as well, ready to step in at the slightest sign of a waver.

Sutur was in the middle of dispatching the last of his attackers. Which he did by searing him in half with that massive fire sword. Neat. He whirled around to face them. “What is the meaning of this?!”

Loki, somewhere, found the strength to shrug. “I have a good idea, but then, why would you ask for the opinion of the Liesmith?”

“I want to _know_ ,” Sutur growled, “why ten of my best soldiers saw it fit to attack me!”

“If I were to hazard a guess, they did not have much choice in the matter. Allow me to check …” Loki knelt down next to one of the dead fire giants and ran a hand over his torso. The flesh of the palm, Tony noted with relief, was mending already.

“Ah. As I feared.” Loki stood up again. Something came away from the giant in the wake of his palm, though. He held it out to Sutur. A small sphere of energy. Blue, tesseract energy. “It appears Thanos did not take your word for it.”

Sutur stared at the blue energy. It seemed out of place, as if the red flames should extinguish it right away to restore the order of nature. Nothing happened. The sphere just hovered. Until Loki brought both his palms together on it. When he opened them again, the sphere had vanished.

“I will,” he said. “I will take your word for it. That you will defend the Nine Realms against Thanos in whichever way you can. Yes?”

Sutur groaned. “Fine. Now get out of my sight before I reconsider letting you and the mortal live.”

Loki smiled. “Gladly.”

The fires of Muspelheim dissolved into a now-familiar gold.

 

#

 

The library. Tony disengaged the faceplate and drew a shuddering breath of fresh air. The window stood open, he realized. No more fire. Instead, night. And a snow storm. This place might be nowhere, but it sure seemed closest to Jötunheim. That wasn’t important, though.

“Loki?”

He had slumped down into one of the armchairs, eyes closed, chest heaving. Tony couldn’t get out of his suit fast enough. He almost tripped over his own feet as he rushed to the kitchen, to get, what, a glass of water, yes, and some ice, that should help, right? In the freezer compartment, he found several ice packs. Trust Loki to have contingency plans.

Back in the library proper, Tony applied one of the ice packs on Loki’s forehead, the other two on the neck. At least, the burning had gone, probably on fusing with the clone, or whatever magic tricks Loki still had up his sleeve. Either way, this struck Tony as serious over-exertion. More ice, maybe?

“What do I do?” he whispered. “Come on, open your eyes, snap at me all you like and then tell me what you need, and you’re going to be right as rain in no time.”

With effort, Loki opened his eyes. “This … This is great.”

Tony held the glass to his lips, which Loki emptied. He exhaled in something close to relief.

“I’m going to run a cold bath. You hang in there. I’ll be right back.”

In the end, Tony more or less had to manhandle Loki out of the armchair, but the cold water seemed to help. He breathed easier, for one.

Tony sat on the edge of the tub with so many questions whirling through his mind, but that would have to wait until Loki’s skin looked … well, not healthy, exactly, but not that ghastly sweaty hue, either.

“Hmmm …” Loki opened his eyes. “Who would have thought you made a good nurse?”

Tony had to laugh. “You bring out the unexpected in me. Gave me a bad scare, though. What happened out there? I mean, really?”

Loki took a deep breath. Definitely sounded better now. “The blue sphere.”

“Tesseract energy. Which is also what Thanos is using to try and track you, right?”

A nod. “Usually, I would extract the energy after inter-realm travel. Or have Hel do it for me, if I cannot. You remember, of course, how that goes. But the last couple of times, I’ve held on to the energy, stored it away, in case I had need of the enemy’s signature …”

Those fire giants hadn’t been taken over by Thanos after all. That’s what the clone had been doing. Passing over some tesseract control magic … But the one giving the orders had been Loki.

“Right,” Tony concluded. “I thought you didn’t have a plan.”

“No _viable_ plan,” Loki corrected. “I had no idea whether this would work. But I knew something had to be done about Muspelheim, and I knew that I couldn’t have held on to the energy for much longer, and I knew that if it failed, I had the best back-up in the Nine Realms.”

“You almost got your back-up killed by insane fire giants,” Tony felt obliged to point out.

Loki smiled. “And yet, here we are.”

Tony had been warned, after all. He’d walked into this with his eyes open, too. So … yeah. Here they were.

 

#

 

Back on Earth. After checking on the manufacturers’ progress, Tony found himself in the workshop, staring at the latest Mark. “I really need to upgrade this one,” he said, to Jarvis, to the world at large, and maybe to Loki. Ah, yes. He turned around. “This ancient magic stuff is starting to seriously get on my nerves. Those energies in the snow of Jötunheim and the fire of Muspelheim? Totally bad interference. Could you maybe give me a hand with this, I mean, magic and all, and it’d only be of help in ragnarök and …”

“I know,” Loki interrupted. “You already mentioned the requirement of upgrades.”

Tony frowned. “I did …? When? Must’ve been in one of my ranting rants. Seriously, you listened to that?”

“I listen to everything you say.”

“Sounds exhausting. I do tend to talk a lot.”

“Really, now. I hadn’t noticed.”

They laughed. Muspelheim seemed very far away.

 

#

 

Fascinating, Tony thought as his technology tried to lock on to a sphere of energy Loki had conjured up for him. He’d never analyzed anything quite like this before. Obviously.

“Uhm …”

Loki frowned. “What is it? I can assure you I will not strangle you with my bare hands if I do not approve of the concept.”

Tony stifled a laugh. “Nah, it’s just, uhm, Bruce. He’d like to see this. He’d have some great concepts about what to do.”

A measuring look from Loki. Evaluating, again. Would he let another Avenger in on the magic? One that had gravely injured him, at that?

“Very well,” he concluded. “Should Dr Banner wish to join in, by all means.”

Huh. That was … unexpected. Better not lose any time before Loki changed his mind.

“Jarvis, patch me through to Bruce.”

“Done, sir.”

“Tony?” Bruce sounded surprised. Well, Tony hadn’t exactly been around lately, had he?

“Yeah. Uhm, listen, we’re working on some cool stuff up here, you know, suit upgrades, and trying to get a read on magic. You want in?”

A short pause on the line. Next to Tony, Loki tensed.

“Sure,” Bruce said. “I’ll be right there.”

Tony spent the wait busying himself with the scanner he’d set up. That calibration was definitely something else.

The door opened. Bruce shuffled into the room. Loki stood up a little straighter. Bruce gave him a curt nod, before making his way over to the work station. “Is that …?”

“My magic?” Loki said. “Yes.”

Bruce contemplated the gold-green sphere. Tony wasn’t sure he wanted to know what conclusions Bruce drew from the situation.

He wasn’t voicing them, anyway. “Where are you on the calibration?”

Tony exhaled. He walked up, called all his initial calculations into life, and started talking.

Once, Loki interjected to clarify a point. A short pause, before Bruce nodded, _go on_.

After that, it was all science as unusual.

 

#

 

A couple of days later, Tony found himself contemplating the map of Yggdrasil again. “Hey, so now that we’ve got Muspelheim and pretty much everyone covered, what about this one? Svartalfheim?”

Loki looked away. “There is nothing there.”

“Yeah, well, probably not. But we still got to check, right? To make sure? Or are you seriously willing to take that risk because, what?”

 _Because he died on that realm, you idiot_ , the back of Tony’s mind supplied. Maybe it wasn’t that important …

“No, you are right. We should go.”

… okay then.

 

#

 

But Loki was right, too.

There was nothing on Svartalfheim. Nothing at all. Even the sun was caught in eternal eclipse. Wind swept sand across the wrecks of black spaceships of various sizes. Wastelands.

“Is there anything alive on this realm?” Tony asked. “A cockroach, maybe?”

Loki closed his eyes. “No,” he concluded. “Just us.”

Right. There had to be some joke in this, to do with ‘if you were the last person in the world’ … “Uhm. Shall we take a look at the tech though? From what I’ve heard, they had some serious stuff. Could be of help, maybe?”

Loki didn’t seem too happy, but again, he couldn’t argue with Tony’s logic.

So they climbed into the closest small spaceship. The hatch gaped open. Tony walked up to what looked like a control panel. Or rather, the panels, plural, to either side of him. Fury would’ve liked these. The bastard.

Anyway, the panels themselves hadn’t sustained any damage, so waking the ship up might be worth a shot. Yeah, okay, he’d watched enough alien movies to be a bit wary of poking technology on a supposedly dead world, but … well. He gave the panels a once-over. They appeared to be for navigation only, no monitor, at least, not yet. Tony pressed a button. A blue HUD flickered into life to form a bubble around him, complete with outside information and indeed outside imaging. He had to admit, it was sort of cool. Now if he could figure out what sort of data the ship provided …

Behind him, Loki was chuckling.

“What’s so funny?”

“Would you like to hazard a guess as to how Thor went about activating this device?”

Oh yeah, they’d stolen one of those on their escape from Asgard, Tony recalled the story. Thor had left out that particular detail but oh dear, Tony could just picture it. He had to laugh.

And yet. A row of symbols was running in circles around the HUD. Probably their language. “Hey, Loki, can you translate this for me?”

“I’m afraid not. I don’t speak Shiväisith.”

“Wait, did you just admit to not knowing something? Can I have that in writing? And by the way, I thought you understood all languages.”

Loki frowned. “It is not often that people _over_ estimate my abilities. Why would you think that?”

“Well, you’re talking to me alright, aren’t you? Even though you’re probably speaking, what, Asgardian? Is that even a language? Is that Old Norse? What kind of magic is that inter-realm understanding thing, anyway?” It occurred to Tony that he had never given this much thought. Sure, he’d found it weird that everyone in the Nine Realms seemed to understand him, even magical torches in Hel, but …

The frown deepened. “I speak the language that is known to you as English. It is the language most commonly spoken on Midgard, is it not? And Midgard is connected to all the realms. Hence, this the language that is spoken, though occasionally in addition to old local languages.”

“What? You actually - you speak _English_? Because that’s what’s lingua franca on Earth?”

Loki shrugged. “Midgard, as the Middle Realm, has a strong connection to all the others, one that even Asgard can only dream of. Midgard is quite central in such matters. Is that not why the poems were recorded on your world?”

It made some sort of sense, contextually speaking, Tony had to admit, but still … “But you do speak Old Norse, too?”

“Yes. Not all Asgardians do, however. It was part of my upbringing, as prince of Asgard, so that I may consult prophecies and old lore in their original language.”

That was just … weird. After everything they’d gone through, this might be tame stuff, after all, they were standing in an alien space ship on a dead world, but … Tony couldn’t quite believe it. “Alors, tu ne me comprends pas quand je parle français?”

The nonplussed look on Loki’s face made Tony laugh out loud. “Shit, you really didn’t, did you? Understand? My high school French that makes people in Monaco happy every year? That’s brilliant. Though you should probably be able to derive that from Latin, wasn’t that lingua franca on Earth forever?”

“Ah, Latin.” Loki smiled. “That clear, yet complex crystal of a language. It was a long time ago.” He sobered up again. “But tell me, how did you think the two of us were conversing all this time?”

“Uhm … Babelfish? Universal translator? Magic? I didn’t really think about it all, actually.”

Loki shook his head in bemusement. “I find it mildly disturbing that you thought you were not talking to _me_ , but some sort of mechanism that translates, and therefore already interprets, for you. Think of all the nuances that would be torn away in the process! Think of all the concepts that simply cannot be translated.”

Yeah, because of course Loki would never allow himself to lose _nuances_ , would he? Two months or so ago, Tony wouldn’t even be having this conversation. He’d never bothered much with language before, anyway. But after all this work on the Eddic poems … yeah, nuances were pretty damn important. “I guess I’m glad, then. That what I’m hearing is actually what you are saying. But it still sucks that you don’t speak Shivaheli. If I give this to Jarvis and tell him to run decryption, just to get behind the general concept of their data collection, would that be okay with your _nuanced_ sensitivities?”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “I am aware of your taste in ostentatious vehicles, but you do not suppose you can fit this into your workshop, do you?”

Tony laughed. Again. This realm wasn’t too bad, was it? “Well, the measuring instruments, maybe. Can you do your vanishing act with those? The control panels and any sensors or hard-drives I might find? And maybe —”

“Am I your pack mule now?”

“Best I ever had.” Tony winked. “But tell you what, since this thing seems pretty operational, how about we take it for a spin before dismantling it? You know, just so I know what to look for, exactly. Not because I’ve always wanted to pilot a spaceship. That’d just be selfish and a little pathetic, right?”

At long last, Loki smiled again. “It only makes sense to test it out, then.”

That was how Tony Stark came to pilot a spaceship. Yep. The controls were pretty intuitive, so he had the thing up in the air soon. And damn, the thing was fast. It spun and whirled as the outside rushed past on the projectors. Tony weaved his course through the wreckages, the raised the ship higher and made it loop and spin over. It felt completely different from flying with the suit, having this massive piece of alien technology reacting to the slightest of touches from his hands … Yeah, driving a car would never be as much fun again. But who cared.

Tony swerved to avoid a cliff and brought the ship up even higher, which gave him a good overview of the wreckage site. Holy shit, it was massive. Eyes could not stretch that far, not even the projections. That was the scale of war they were facing, wasn’t it? A war that had made an entire realm extinct … If this were _Earth_ …

“Done so soon?” Loki’s voice interrupted the reverie. “That was … rather conservative.”

“Oh you!” Tony laughed. “You haven’t seen nothing yet. Hold on tight.” With that, he fired up the engines again.

 

#

 

For once, they were back on Earth for the night. Loki was stretched out on the bed, half tangled in the sheets, eyes closed, head resting on his left arm. Tony ran his real hand up Loki’s spine, and down again. Loki hummed.

There’d been no urgency to their fucking that night, if fucking was indeed still the word to use. But Tony didn’t want to contemplate any alternative terms. For once, he didn’t want to speak, period. Instead, he trailed his fingertips back up, then replaced them with his artificial hand and resumed his caress. Loki opened his eyes and smiled. Tony’s breath caught.

He might not have been averse to another round, if he were younger, but either way, lying here, casual caresses, breathing, all that struck Tony as the greatest idea ever. Oh hells. This was getting dangerously close to …

“Sirs,” JARVIS chimed in.

“What?” Tony snapped. “Did you reprogram the meaning of the sentence ‘No interruptions’?”

“My apologies, Mr Stark, but Thor is approaching with ten Asgardian soldiers in tow. He does not appear to be in his gaming mood.”

Tony froze. “ _What_?” He looked at Loki, who shook his head, somewhat helplessly. “Shit! Get …”

The window shattered and there stood the god of thunder, with warriors streaming into the room behind him. Tony just about managed to cover himself with a stray sheet. Loki had vanished, so there was that at least.

“What’s with the window-breaking, big-swinging intimidating commando?”

Thor glared, as he took in the surroundings, the crumpled sheets and the state of undress. “Loki! I know you are here! I am done playing your games.”

Well, shit.

“Loki Laufeyson,” one of the warriors said, “you are under arrest. Return right this instance or we’ll kill the mortal.”

“Now hang on a minute,” Tony started, but Loki caught his arm.

He’d reappeared, in armor, no less, and now held up both his hands. Tony had a rather inappropriate flashback to Stuttgart.

“Why, my dear not-brother,” he purred. “Quite the effort you’ve made. Say, which crime am I supposed to have committed this time?”

“Do not play innocent with me!” Thor shouted. “You will be taken to Asgard and this time, you will be granted no mercy.”

Definitely Stuttgart all over again. _Don’t take my stuff …_

“Hey,” Tony said. Everyone looked at him, which was not awkward at all, considering he was still naked beneath the sheet. “Does anyone mind explaining to me what’s going on? Since you’re wrecking my bedroom and all.”

“Tony Stark,” Thor said. “I am disappointed you fell for his schemes. I shall see to it that you are checked for enchantments, because I cannot explain this otherwise.”

“You mean fucking your little brother?” Everyone flinched. Loki stifled a laugh. “Calm down, big guy, I did that all of my own free will. Doesn’t explain why you want to arrest him, though.”

“He killed Baldur!”

Tony blinked. What. He might have said that out loud, too. Baldur was dead? By Loki’s hands? Surely not. That’d mean bringing ragnarök a considerable step closer and --

“I most certainly did not,” Loki said. “I most certainly _could_ not. I have not set foot on Asgard again. As Tony can attest.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, because he really needed that to be true, desperately in fact, shit, just now he’d thought … “Yeah, I can totally attest to that.”

“Quiet!” Thor roared. “Don’t think I have not seen through your elaborate trickery! Take him away.”

The ten warriors descended upon Loki, which was too much even for him. In no time at all, he was bound around ankles and wrists. “Listen to me,” he snarled. “This is ridiculous, what possible reason could I —”

“You court chaos,” Thor said. “That is all you ever do. I have finally understood that. It is too late now.”

Something shifted in Loki’s expression then, a realization perhaps, that Thor would not be reasoned with anymore. Last resort time, then. Would he turn out a magic trick after all? Vanish to Niflheim? Make Hel turn up? Summon the Casket?

No. “Tony!” He sounded panicked now, genuinely panicked. Tony’s throat constricted. Could all this be an act, by the master of lies? Yeah. Yeah, it could. Of course it _could_ … “Whatever they tell you, I did not —” One guard drove a dagger into Loki’s stomach and he doubled over in pain. Tony flinched. Two other guards used the opportunity to fit Loki with a muzzle. Then they whisked him away.

“Loki!” Tony shouted after them, but to no avail. It couldn’t be true. Could it? His mind raced through time, looking for clues, for odd statements, for any hints that would explain this, that would mean that Loki hadn’t lied to him …

Thor had remained. He was looking down at Tony with nothing short of disgust. “I did warn you, Stark. Now, it is too late for that as well. I have alerted Captain America that you have been ‘compromised.’ The only hope that I hold in this situation is that Loki did cast a spell on you. For your sake. Get dressed.”

 

#


	12. Chapter 12

Asgard.

The Realm Eternal.

Tony might’ve been excited, or he might’ve marveled at the splendor of this realm, but frankly, right now he’d rather be freezing to death on Jötunheim than being manhandled by an angry Thor.

A man dressed in gold watched them go past with a disapproving glance. That had to be Heimdall.

“How the mighty fall,” he observed, with a smug smile.

Before Tony could think of a few choice words to reply, Thor dragged him away and down some psychedelic bridge right out of a 90ies video game. He barely got to look at the golden citadel.

_I never want to set foot onto Asgard again._

Loki had said that, and it had not been a lie. Tony had believed him. And yet here they were. Loki had read the poems, though. He would have suspected this would happen. _Anticipated_ , even. And yet …

“Hey, slow down!” Tony tried to strain against the grip, but without the suit, he was no match for Thor. “What’s going to happen to Loki?”

“That is for King Váli to decide,” Thor said without turning around. King Who? “Normally, he would be executed for high treason.”

Tony froze. He was promptly tripped over by Thor’s speed and had to be dragged to his feet again. Dazed, he asked, “Normally …?”

“By now, it is uncertain whether he can die at all. But he will be punished.”

Tony’s mind whirled. He saw the images rise from his memory of the Völuspá, of poison dripping down and … _Focus_ , he told himself. There had to be a way out of this. “How about a trial first? Isn’t there supposed to be justice on high and mighty Asgard?”

Thor shook his head. “To allow Loki to speak would be to give in to his trickery. Thus, he will never speak again.”

His mouth, Tony thought ( _remembered? Knew?_ ). In the Edda, they sewed Loki’s mouth shut … _Focus_. “But where’s the evidence that he, you know, killed Baldur? You can’t sentence your brother to eternal torture without at least some evidence!”

“He’s not my brother.”

Well, shit.

 

#

 

Some women manhandled Tony into the quantum field generator that Jane had been talking about and it would have been completely _awesome_ , if Tony hadn’t been worried out of his mind. Thor stood next to the procedure, frowning.

Would they find some sort of magic? Tony couldn’t completely disregard the possibility that yes, Loki had cast some sort of spell on him, although that didn’t seem like anything Loki had done before, such as … teleporting between realms, duplicating himself and tearing a wall and the Other apart by sheer will. Uhm. So Tony felt reasonably certain that he’d started sleeping with the guy of his own account. Somehow. Now that he tried to retrace his steps, it all ended up a bit hazy, he remembered the smoking dream ruins of Asgard from the library window and Loki holding him in place ( _safe_ ) on Vanaheim and —

It was the generator causing this fast-forward. It had to be. Maybe they weren’t checking him for spells at all, maybe they just wanted to know what he and Loki, or rather just Loki, had been up to. And nope, Tony wasn’t giving them that. Not until they told him what happened to Baldur.

So Tony did the next-best thing he could - he looked at the molecular energy that the generator had transferred above his actual body, and what the women were doing with it. Understand the science. If he ever got out of this, he could build one with Jane and Bruce. That would be all kinds of awesome and Loki — no. Quantum field generator.

The energy display vanished. The women didn’t look too happy about the results, but with everything that had happened in the last couple of hours, Tony couldn’t tell whether this was a good or a bad sign.

“There are no spells on him,” one woman said to Thor.

“See, I told you.” Tony sat up. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s happening?”

“It is not for me to tell.” Was it imagination or didn’t Thor sound quite so resolute anymore? “Follow me. King Váli will decide.”

 

#

 

They walked down some high, broad corridors of solid gold. If Tony had thought Vanaheim looked richer than could be healthy, he clearly hadn’t seen anything yet. In myth, hadn’t it been the Vanir who had introduced the Asgardians to gold? And to magic, come to think of it? _Freyja_ , he thought. Freyja had to know what was going on, maybe she could help … and risk starting another war.

The throne room was a pompous hall as well. The Dark Elves had destroyed it, and Thor had taken out the remaining columns on his flight, Tony recalled dimly from the tales. The throne had been destroyed, too. None of that showed. It was all gold and splendor and rather breathtaking in a way.

On the throne sat another son of Odin. Seriously, did they keep them stored in cryo-freeze to make sure they didn’t run out? Ridiculous. Would this one have more personality than Baldur, at least? Váli, Thor had said. In myth, wasn’t that … the guy who was born for the sole purpose of taking revenge for Baldur’s death. Right.

Around the throne, the elite of Asgard was assembled. The Warriors Three and the Lady Sif. Heimdall. Tony recognized them from the stories, Thor’s as much as Loki’s.

“You, mortal!” the King thundered. “I have been informed that there are no spells on you, which means you cooperated with the traitor Loki of your own accord!”

“Uhm, yeah.” How did one play a crowd of Asgardians? Well, he would do his best to try. “That I did. Cooperate. As for the traitor part … Care to tell me exactly what happened?”

“Tony Stark! I am letting you go as a courtesy to my brother. Think carefully about your next steps. You know what becomes of those that would lay waste to Asgard.”

“Have you ever heard about ragnarök?” That, at the very least, gave Váli pause. “That’s what we’ve been working on, Loki and me. A defense mechanism, to avert the entire thing. We read the prophecies and everything. We’re almost there. Thor can confirm that.”

Váli whirled to his brother, who shrugged, helplessly. “That is what I have been led to believe. A large-scale operation involving every realm.”

“But of course apart from Asgard,” Váli spat. “Don’t you _see_? Loki manipulated the prophecy for his own purpose, which was to turn whatever device you came up with against Asgard!”

Of course, Loki _could_ be playing the long game, it _could_ be a trick, it could … no. Tony remembered it well, the cold fury that had seized Loki before obliterating the Other. _You will not win …_

“The threat isn’t Asgard, it’s Thanos. You know, Mad Titan, worships death, collects stones in his free time, ever heard of him?”

“Oh, him.” Váli gestured vaguely around, as if swatting a fly. “Asgard’s forces will crush anyone who would be foolish enough to raise arms against us. We certainly do not require the help of some mortal and his toys.”

If this joke of a tyrant thought so little of humans, he was in for a great lesson on one of their strongest traits: sheer stubbornness. “You know what, I get the entire superiority complex, really, I do, I used to make weapons for the grand old US of A. And I got to admit, it took me some time to warm up to the idea that a Viking poem was supposed to hold the key to the future of all realms. But tell me one thing, just how did Baldur die? Arrow made of mistletoe, by any chance?”

Utter disdain crossed Váli’s face. “Loki did the best he could, under the given circumstances. To keep you believing it, apparently, for whatever good that would do. You, a mere mortal. Or would you rather be addressed as Týr?”

Tony shifted his artificial hand away from sight. “No, thanks.”

Head count. Váli wouldn’t tell Tony how Baldur had died. There was something dodgy about it. Apart from being the murder of the King of Asgard. Tony would have to look into that … somehow. And if they had Loki tied up, dripping poison on him … Which universally recognized authority could he possibly appeal to?

“Okay, if you don’t believe me, why don’t you go ask the Norns. They told me some cryptic stuff about all this, but it turned out to make plenty of sense.”

Váli frowned. “Is there no end to Loki’s insolence? The Norns? You claim the _Norns_ have spoken to you? Don’t be ridiculous. The Norns haven’t spoken to anyone in _centuries_. It was a trick. A conjuration. The one thing Loki truly excels at.”

Entirely possible, Tony had to admit. Everything Váli had told him, it was entirely _possible_. And yet … and yet … _Whatever they tell you, I did not —_

“But —”

“Enough! Go back home to your toys and your poems. Do not ever return.”

He couldn’t do this alone, Tony realized. He needed an ally. Someone who could do magic, could move between realms. Freyja was the obvious choice, but she couldn’t risk offending Asgard. Which left … keeping with the story … somewhat …

“Okay then,” he said. “You’re going to cast me out of here in a moment, right? Can I at least pick the realm?”

That, at least, seemed to stir some interest in Váli. “Where would the mortal prefer to go?”

“Niflheim.”

Thor started at him, nonplussed, but Váli laughed. “I must remember to congratulate Loki if I ever I visit his cell. He has trained you so well, and all without any help of his magic. How Loki failed to overthrow such a gullible realm is truly staggering.”

“Yeah, whatever. Can I go to Hel now?”

“You most certainly can. May you happily rot in it.”

Váli gestured to Heimdall and Asgard disappeared in a rush of gold.

 

#

 

Tony blinked the world back into focus. Wind clawed at him. He could see nothing but mist. And the bridge. Of course they’d dropped him off at the far end out of spite. No matter. Tony gathered his nerves about himself and ran. Wind and river and his heart thundered in his ears, but he didn’t have any time to waste and —

Hel was waiting for him at the foot of Garm’s gate.

“What do you think you’re doing here?”

Tony skidded to a halt. It took him a moment to catch his breath. “Loki, I — we have to help him. I can’t — do anything on my own. You have to help me get him out of there.”

Hel gave him a once-over. “At the moment, the most I can help you do is stand upright. You shouldn’t have come here.”

“Would you leave your father to the Asgardian notion of justice? Do you even know —”

“It is written. I have half a mind to throw you off this bridge. The only thing that is keeping me from doing so is the knowledge that father would have my head for it. Follow me. If you can.”

She stalked off, leaving Tony no chance but to stagger after her. What was the matter with her? She couldn’t honestly mean to do nothing, just because Loki being imprisoned was written in this stupid poem. Damn, Tony hated those verses.

Somewhere inside her palace, Hel stopped. Tony collapsed onto the nearest seat. It was made of cold stone, but he didn’t care. “Please,” he wheezed. “You have to _do_ something.”

Hel didn’t reply. She just looked at Tony, searching …

“What,” he snapped.

She shook her head. “I can’t see it.”

“See _what_?”

“What he sees in you. My father, I mean.”

“Sure. Whatever. You don’t have to list my character defects now, believe me, I know. There was the ash and then there was ragnarök, none of which I asked for, by the way, and then things just kind of happened and why am I even talking to you about all this.”

Hel startled him by laughing. “You don’t know. You really have no idea.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s because you’re not making any sense!”

“Show me.” Huh? “The hand.”

This was getting stranger by the second, but Tony extended the artificial hand anyway. If it made her talk straight … She all but yanked at the hand, dragging Tony to his feet in the process. Damn, but she was strong.

“Hm.” She traced the near-invisible line where artificial and natural flesh met. “What did your healers tell you about this wound?”

“Uh… I almost died. Of blood loss. But I somehow didn’t. And it healed very quickly.” The doctors hadn’t been able to explain any of it. He hadn’t thought about it further, he’d just been glad to have the hand replaced and to be getting on with business and then all this stuff had happened … “I think Steve - Captain America - he said that Loki tried to stop the bleeding, and when that wouldn’t work, he vanished. He came back when I was out of coma.”

Hel circled the wrist with one pale finger. It _stung_. Tony jerked away and cradled the wrist in his other hand. “What did you do?”

“I checked. Fenrir made this wound, and in a way, he was a child of Loki - he had his magic. Powerful magic, Stark. A wound like this cannot be closed.”

Tony frowned. _Almost died …_ “Then how …”

She heaved a sigh. “There is an energy source … only the most powerful sorcerers can call upon it, and only as a last resort. It is known as dark energy, to deter people from seeking it. There are but a handful who could wield it. Odin did, for one, to send Thor to Midgard when my father stole the tesseract. Freyja could, certainly … and Loki. It was the only way - the last way - to save you. So that is what he did.”

Alright then. “I … I didn’t know that. Dark energy?” Tony looked at his hand, suddenly suspicious. “I really don’t like the sound of that.”

“Once harnessed, it is as dangerous - or as harmless - as the wielder wishes it to be. Lesser sorcerers crack under the pressure. No, it certainly is not _you_ who should be worried.”

Something dawned on Tony. Not comprehension exactly, but … dread.

“Loki?” he asked. “What did he …?”

“What price did he pay, to save you? You measly mortal? Even if you avert ragnarök, how much longer do you have? Hm? With the way you live? Five years, perhaps? Ten, at most?”

Tony flinched. Yeah, okay, he didn’t exactly go in for healthy living, but …

 _You infuriating mortal_. That’s what Loki had said, the first time they’d had any sort of argument about their … whatever. On Vanaheim, shortly after the whole Fenrir debacle. Mortal. The emphasis had been on _mortal_. Had that been the problem? Tony hadn’t even …

He croaked, “What did he … pay?”

“The only thing you can pay with when you call upon dark energy … your life. He drew it out of _his own life’s energy_ , Stark. He wouldn’t tell me how much. A hundred years, two hundred? Enough for him to turn up on my doorstep, barely conscious. Three days I had to watch over him and keep Thanos off his scent and worry that he would not awake again and for _what_? For you! What’s so special about _you_?”

Uhm. Somehow, Tony thought, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist wasn’t going to cut it. And anyway, Loki had … he couldn’t have … could he? His own life’s energy? Tony felt dizzy. He staggered back to the chair and sat down. “I … I had no idea.”

“No. Evidently, you didn’t.” Hel heaved a sigh. “And now you are here, risking everything, to get him out of his prison? Do you know what is at stake here? Have you even read the poems?”

“Yeah, I’ve read them alright!” From somewhere, deep down, all the anger and frustration at King Váli and the helplessness bubbled to the surface. “Loki being imprisoned and escaping is part of ragnarök, yeah, I know. But that’s still not the last act, is it? I mean, in a way it already started when Fenrir first attacked, or even before that. It’s not like making them stop torturing Loki is going to end the world!”

Or so Tony hoped. He hadn’t actually thought about it in this way. Yes, it was a significant step towards ragnarök, but their defense mechanism was fairly solid and besides, two months or so had passed between the Fenrir shenanigans and this, which was probably not intended in the original poems … was it? Which original poem, anyway? They had never succeeded in recovering the definite Edda.

Hel made some suitcase-sized object appear. Tony squinted at it in the low lights. Oh. An Iron Man suit.

“If you put this on, this gold-and-red contraption of yours, and think about where you are for a second, does that remind you of a line in the Völuspá? Hm?”

Tony considered it. He knew the Völsupá off by heart, after all this study they’d done.

 

_Then to the gods | crowed Gollinkambi,_

_He wakes the heroes | in Othin's hall;_

_And beneath the earth | does another crow,_

_The rust-red bird | at the bars of Hel._

 

“That can’t be,” he concluded. “You’re thinking of that rust-red bird that awakens Niflheim?”

“Yes, the bird that no one could name or even explain. And is that not precisely what you are suggesting? Rousing the strength of Hel to march on Asgard? Have you thought carefully about what you are about to unleash?”

Uhm … no. The thing was, Tony kind of … hadn’t. “Hey, I just wanted a way to get Loki out of there, now more than ever because looks like I kind of owe him big time, and sorry, but you’re my best bet. _His_ best bet. In the poem, Fenrir breaks free after all this happens, so who’s to say this will be the final step towards ragnarök? And anyway, first we need to find out how Baldur really died, because if we can prove that it wasn’t Loki …”

Hel laughed. A shiver ran down Tony’s spine.

“Wait …” he said. “You don’t mean to tell me that Loki _did_ kill Baldur?”

“No. No, he didn’t.” Tony breathed a sigh of relief. “At least, when he acted the way he did, a few centuries ago, which started off a chain of events that ultimately led to Baldur’s death, I can safely say he wasn’t thinking this would happen.”

Tony blinked. “What are you talking about. You know what happened? Tell me!”

“I’ll do one better, if it shuts you up. I’ll show you.”

Before Tony could protest, the dark room swirled out of focus.

 

#

 

Nidavellir. Not a realm Tony had felt like visiting again, given the choice. They were standing outside one of the mines, right next to another stone door with a locking mechanism. At this moment, the door swung open. Out stumbled … Thor.

Tony flinched, but Thor didn’t appear to notice them.

“This has already happened,” Hel said. “We’re merely here to observe. We could not interfere if we wanted to. Watch.”

At least, he wouldn’t have to worry about Butterfly Effect on top of everything else … Instead, Tony watched.

Thor looked … the same, and yet, not. Younger. How long ago had this happened?

Behind him, Sif appeared in the sunlight, followed by the Vanir Tony recognized as Hogun. He, in turn, was followed by …

Tony stared.

Maybe it struck him especially because he knew every inch of that body, but Loki looked _different_. His hair was much shorter, yes, obviously. He looked younger, but then, so did Thor. No, that wasn’t all. His step was graceful already, but there was a spring to it, a lightness that had all but disappeared in later years. He held himself differently, too, not slouching exactly but comfortable. Not the carefully constructed pose he adopted nowadays. And most of all … The open smile sat easily on Loki’s face. As if it was accustomed to that place. Not a trickster’s smile, not a maniac’s, no, just … Loki, content with the world and his place in it.

Tony swallowed. This was the Loki Thor thought about when he called him “brother.” The Loki Tony had never met. And never would. Because that Loki wasn’t coming back. Tony’s heart went out to him, and to Thor, for everything they’d lost.

“Focus,” Hel hissed.

Right.

While Tony had been … distracted, another man had emerged from the mountain. What was his name again, another of the Warrior’s Three … Fandral.

They all gathered around Thor, laughing. He held something in his hand, some kind of fur, with golden threads.

“And what do you propose to do,” Loki said, “with the fur of this grand otter?”

Thor was laughing, too. “We shall give Mother the most exquisite gloves she has ever owned!”

Frigga. Talk about losses … Hel elbowed him.

“Where’s Volstagg?” Sif asked.

Fandral frowned. “He was right behind me.”

They peered back at the dark corridor. A figure stood there, a short one … a dwarf. Just inside the corridor, not the sun. “You have stolen from Hreidmar our King,” he proclaimed. “Bring us the otter’s weight in gold by tonight or we shall cast your companion in everlasting irons! Nidavellir gold, mind you, not this trash you call gold on Asgard.”

Thor roared and raised Mjölnir, but the door had already swung shut, and no attempts by either Loki or Sif could force it open again.

“What do we do?” Fandral asked.

Sif said, “We could try and trick them again, of course, but we would have need of some leverage. Gold is not merely lying around this realm …”

With an easy smile, Loki shrugged. “Leave it to me.”

The scene changed. By now, Tony was so used to teleportation that he didn’t feel any vertigo. In the fading lights, he could just make out a waterfall descending in a well. Nidavellir, still. Tony didn’t know how he could tell, but he could. A feeling, maybe.

Something rippled the surface. Tony peered down and wished for his now magic-savvy HUD for a detailed scan. A fish. So far, so ordinary. A fish in a well.

A rush of gold descended on the water. Loki’s magic. Tony could tell, by the color, that specific hue of gold and a tinge of green…

At any rate, the fish got caught in the magic, which formed a net around him and levitated him out of the water. The fish struggled like mad. It also appeared to be getting bigger. And it didn’t look much like a fish at all anymore. Instead, inside the net, was a dwarf.

Hovering in mid-air, the dwarf ceased his struggling and glared at the direction the net had descended from. Loki stepped forward, the moon illuminating his silhouette.

“You,” the dwarf hissed.

“Hello, Andvari,” Loki replied with another of his easy grins. He flicked his left hand and the net started to rise up again.

“What do you want, Asgardian?” Andvari spat. Why did that name ring a bell? “Is raiding the mines of Hreidmar our King not enough for your greed?”

Loki laughed. It echoed eerily above the waterfall. “Oh, that was just a bit of fun, really. And since when do you care for your King?”

“What do you _want_?”

“You will lead me to your hidden gold treasure. Only then will I release you from your cage.”

Andvari tried to struggle once more, but he could not break free. “And you will take it all, I assume?”

“Why, of course.” Loki was grinning, still. “You may, as a gesture of good will, keep your signet ring. It is of no value to me.”

“It will be,” Andvari spat. He jabbed his left ring finger against the constraints, gold against gold. A ring … Andvari … “I curse you, Loki Odinson, the Liesmith, and the entire family of Odin! Your insufferable greed will be your downfall!”

The ring glowed. Loki shrugged. “If you say so. Now, lead the way.”

A phrase finally resurfaced in Tony’s mind. _The Andvaranaut has not been seen for centuries …_

He blinked. When had he heard that? Loki had told him, when he’d joked about the One Ring to Rule Them All … Andvari’s ring, yes. The guarantor of the curse, because Loki had stolen the dwarf’s gold … That’s what had led to Baldur’s death?

Before Tony could ask Hel, the scene changed again. Into a dark tunnel, this time.

A group of dwarves approached.

“We’re ready,” one of them said. “Finally, Vindalf. Everything we’ve been waiting for. Asgard has held us under foot for so long.”

“Yes, Nain” said the other. “Finally. Justice will be done for the crimes against Andvari and all the free dwarves.”

“What about the threat, though? The things Freyja talked about to Hreidmar?” asked a third.

“Oh, Sviur. That’s just another of their tricks, to keep us occupied. Build this, fix that, we’re so incapable of keeping order in our realm, but we’re going to enforce it on everyone else, just because!” Nain laughed. “Asgard, pah. And Vanaheim, at that. But Asgard most of all. Hreidmar is weak. And Asgard, finally, is weak, too, now that Thor dwells in exile and this incompetent experiment sits on the throne …”

“And the trickster has wandered off, too,” Vindalf said. “With that mortal of his.”

“Good riddance,” Sviur said.

“So we all agree? We do this tonight?” asked Nain. He held out a metal box the size of his palm.

The others nodded. “Tonight,” they said, and vanished down the corridor.

Hel waved her hand again. When the scene reset, they were on Asgard, in the throne hall. Baldur sat on it, looking healthy and comfortable. So far. Another Asgardian in golden armor approached the throne.

“What is it, Hödur?” Baldur asked. That name rang a bell, somewhere. Wasn’t that …

“My king.” Hödur bowed. He held out the metal box they’d just seen with the dwarves. “This arrived from Nidavellir, as a token of their respect.”

“How kind.” Baldur took the box. “What is it?”

Hödur shrugged. “I did not look at it.”

Prelude to disaster, much? He hadn’t even asked who exactly it was from. The King of Asgard could hardly be so gullible … could he?

He could. Baldur opened the box and peered in. The contents made him frown, so he … didn’t hand it over to some servant for thorough security checks. No, he reached in. His breath caught.

“My king?” Hödur asked.

By then, it was already too late. The box fell from Baldur’s hands. He himself staggered, eyes wide and unseeing. He was dead before his body hit the floor.

Guards came running from everywhere, shouting. Some arrested Hödur, who shouted loudest of all. Someone tried to resuscitate the king, without success.

“Look.” Hel pointed to the box that had fallen from Baldur’s hands. Inside it was Andvari’s ring. But also another ring, made of slim twigs ( _mistletoe_ ), some of them sticking outward like thorns.

“Poison,” Hel said. “On the wood, because even the renegade dwarves would not dare desecrate metal.”

The pattern of the mistletoe ring wasn’t random, Tony realized, as one guard took a three-dimensional scan of the entire ensemble. It spelled out runes. He hadn’t bothered too much with those since the surviving Old Norse manuscripts were written in Latin letters, but he did recognize one word.

“Justice shall be served, in the name of Loki,” Hel translated.

Dazed, Tony said, “But he’d never sign his name.”

“No. But then, the box did have a self-destruct sequence that, for better or worse, was activated …”

The box crumbled in on itself and disappeared.

“… too late.”

“Damn,” Tony mumbled.

“Quite.” Hel waved her hand one final time, and the panicking guards dissolved.

 

#

 

When Tony opened his eyes, he was back on Niflheim in the dark chamber.

“Okay then ,” he concluded. “So Loki had something to do with the death Baldur.”

“Precisely.”

“But at the same time, it wasn’t Loki that actually killed Baldur. This wouldn’t hold up in any court of law, that was, what, five hundred years ago and an act of petty theft or whatever, it’s —”

“That is not how Asgard works. And not for him, anyway.”

“But who would have thought the dwarves … I mean, I recognized the names, they’re all in this catalog that we … discarded …” Tony blinked. “Holy _shit_!”

Hel arched an elegant eyebrow. “What about it?”

“These couple of stanzas in the Völuspá, full of names of dwarves, and no one can explain how those ended up there, but pretty much everyone agrees that it wasn’t part of the original poem, so we ignored it because we were looking for the original text and … shit, we’ve been going about this the completely wrong way!”

“I don’t follow,” Hel said. “So you’re saying all these scholars are wrong and the dwarf catalog does belong into the prophecy?”

“No!” Tony knew he had just had an important epiphany, but putting that into words … “It probably wasn’t in the original text! But that’s not the point! The point is, it’s been in there for _centuries_. All this time, people who’ve read the Völuspá have read the dwarf catalog, and for all of them, it was part of the poem, whether it was there to begin with or not! We can’t recover the original prophecy anyway. Even you couldn’t find it! That’s because the original text _doesn’t matter_! But people have copied and changed and read the text all across the centuries, people have kept it _relevant_. And isn’t that exactly what creates meaning? Because it means something to _people_?”

Hel subjected him to a long, measuring gaze. She had to believe this, she just had to, because Tony was _right_ , he _knew_ was right, and the implications of that, what it meant for ragnarök, he needed to talk to Loki, right now, he —

“Very well,” Hel concluded. “Loath as I am to admit it, this could explain the Baldur case. But this still does not mean Váli the Tyrant will let Loki go. He will never let him go. Loki’s imprisonment is inevitable.”

“Don’t tell me it’s because it’s his … destiny.” Tony blinked. Oh. “You know the line about Baldur and how his destiny, or his fates, are set? And the Old Norse, _örlög_ , could be singular or plural? Maybe it’s not just Baldur. Maybe it’s _Loki_. When he tried to invade Earth, he kept saying this stuff about there being no other way and having come to far for anything else, but … There’s _always_ a way out. Especially for the trickster! He’s realized that by now. And he’s at the center of ragnarök, after all. His actions set it in motion and help it along. Stands to reason that only he can stop it. Him and his children, I mean. Fenrir is already dead, and now it’s your time, and the Midgard Serpent, well …”

“Are you telling me it’s not Hydra? Yes, granted, it has no connection whatsoever to Loki, but it does to Thanos and —”

“ _That’s it!_ ” Tony shouted. “The connection to Loki! That’s what Hydra is missing, so Hydra can’t be the Midgard Serpent because there is no meaningful connection beyond, yeah, ok, the hydra in Greek mythology is sort of a serpent. But still, if we’re talking about a serpent that does have a connection to Loki we’re talking about the defense mechanism we’ve been building. Drawing from the strength of all the realms, centering on Earth … What if that is Loki’s third child? If we redraw the defense grid, make it encircle Earth … This could work! It _will_ work!”

Hel was frowning again. “You would bet the future of the Nine Realms onto this flight of fancy of yours? On how you choose to interpret a poem? After all, the Serpent encompasses Midgard, but it is a destructive force, at the end of the day.”

“So is Loki. So am I. So are we all. And we’re already giving this text new meaning, by our actions, are we not? So we’ll interpret the Midgard Serpent for our purposes. And we need Loki for it all to succeed. We do.”

“Yes,” Hel said, finally. “Yes, we do.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, she showed the same icy resolve that made her father near-invincible. “Alright then, Stark. Let’s break into Asgard’s most secure prison.”

 

#


	13. Chapter 13

Night had fallen on Asgard. Somewhere in the distance, behind a mountain range of rough cliffs, Tony could just glimpse the top of the golden citadel. So their high security prison was not in the capital. Made sense. The first time they’d tried to imprison Loki on Asgard, Tony remembered, it had been in the prison vault beneath the citadel. Together with that spy of Malekith. Hadn’t worked out too well. And that with their advanced technology which they called magic, eh?

Hel stood next to Tony, glaring at the citadel. She had been born the daughter of a prince of Asgard, and yet Odin had kept her from her father and banished her to Niflheim. Made her Protector of the Realm, granted, but still, it didn’t strike Tony as a particularly nice thing to do. Even if that father was Loki and Odin might have believed to have acted in the child’s best interest.

“So, where to?” Tony asked. His HUD scanned the area. They were standing on top of another cliff. In front of them, a huge well. A waterfall descended from opposite, just about visible in the starlight.

That was where Hel pointed, too. “Franangrsfors.”

The strange name sounded familiar. Of course it did. When they’d searched for Loki in the Edda, after he’d tricked Hödur into killing Baldur, that was where they had caught him. Transformed into a salmon, with a fishnet of Loki’s own design, the only thing that could catch him. He’d tried to burn it, in the poems, but the other Asgardians had found the remains. Tony, when reading, had thought that the “real” Loki would never be so careless, but then, the mythological Loki hadn’t been in the best frame of mind at the time. So they’d caught him and bound him and let poison drip on him until ragnarök …

“Your suit can fly, yes?” Hel asked.

“Yeah.”

“Follow me.” She transformed into a bird that looked like a cross between raven and eagle, and flew towards the waterfall. Right. Definitely powerful.

Tony followed her. What kind of defenses would there be? The water in itself was magical, of course. Hel hovered in front of it, contemplative. Tony ran a scan with his HUD. Thanks to those latest updates as well as Bruce’s and Loki’s input, he could make out the different strands of energy running through it. Who knew it would have come in handy so soon? Tony had a sneaking suspicion that Loki might have known. Or at least suspected. Which had to be why he’d been so willing to help. Bastard.

“I got this,” he said.

Hel turned to him. If birds could raise an eyebrow, that would have been precisely her reaction.

No matter. Tony identified the pattern of the magic barring entry and had the HUD calculate a response to take it out. Not to be done by brute force, of course. This was a question of precision and … the … right … moment.

Tony fired.

The water parted where the suit’s energy slammed against it, long enough for Tony and Hel to fly through and into a dark corridor, illuminated only a few yards around them by the suit’s arc reactor.

Hel had transformed back into herself. “Not bad, Stark.”

“Upgrades, you know. After Muspelheim. Loki had a few ideas.”

She … well, yes, that could be qualified as a smile. Comparatively speaking. “Whatever was Váli thinking, allowing you to leave his sight?”

Tony grinned.

From straight ahead down the corridor, a figure approached. A woman, veiled in black. She stopped. “You should not be here. No one should know this place exists.”

“Don’t underestimate Midgard,” Hel said. Had to refer to the prophecy, that. Loki had kept her updated on progress. She conjured up her ice and froze the poor person in place without any hesitation. “Come on, Stark. We don’t have any time left to lose.”

Tony couldn’t agree more.

They advanced down the corridors. There were a couple of magical barriers, but they operated on similar principles as the waterfall had. Tony took them out with calculated repulsor blasts. Any booby traps there might have been, Hel froze solid. They made a decent team, Tony acknowledged.

A door. Bolted several times. That had to be it. Tony swallowed as Hel froze the handles and motioned for him to destroy them. Even that worked. Váli really must have made his calculations without them. They entered.

Tony blinked into a cell. Behind a translucent barrier, there was Loki, bound to a stone table with three broad restraints. He was breathing. Marginally. The lower half of his face gleamed blood-red around the raw lips. Tony could make out black threads, stitching them together. Loki’s eyes stared blindly upwards. He hadn’t even noticed Tony and Hel approaching.

So this trip had come full circle, in a way, with Loki imprisoned and unable to speak, but telling Tony a story anyway …

_It’s never over._

Damn right it wasn’t! So about that barrier …

From somewhere above in the darkness, a black drop fell. It landed on Loki’s forehead and he thrashed against the restraints, against the threads that kept him from screaming, he had to be in so much _pain_ and this had been going on for _hours_ and Tony couldn’t —

Hel cried out. It was a guttural, primal sound of cold fury. The hair on Tony’s neck stood on edge. Loki, in his cell, flinched. He started to turn his head, slowly, ever so slowly … Hel had conjured up magic in her palms and threw it against the barrier, she was strong, Tony remembered, she was Loki’s daughter, of course she was strong … He powered up his repulsors and set to work on the cell as well. Between the two of them, the transparent magic wall evaporated.

Loki stared at them, wide-eyed and panicked. At least, he’d reacted … Hel had already set to work on the restraints. Tony wanted to do the same, but first, he saw another drop of poison, so he caught that one with his suited hand before thinking about it. The poison sizzled and probably destroyed the repulsor, but didn’t actually burn through the metal. Hm. Another good upgrade, this.

Beneath him, Loki drew a shuddering breath of relief. Oh shit, just how painful … Hel had almost released the restraints.

“Loki,” Tony whispered. “Loki, stay with me, we’re getting you out of here.”

Hel released the last restraint.

“Quick, Stark. We have to go.”

Tony scooped Loki up in his arms as carefully as possible. Hel led the way back outside, away from any magic dampeners. When Tony looked down at Loki, it appeared he’d lost consciousness. They really couldn’t get him to one of those magically healing bubble thingies fast enough …

They were outside. Guards were converging on the waterfall. Hel snarled at them, and teleported them out just as the first arrows were about to hit.

 

#

 

Niflheim.

Loki lay inside the golden sphere, in fitful sleep, or coma. Tony sat to his right side, Hel to the left. She hadn’t hesitated to reach for one of Loki’s hands, so Tony held on to the other and watched as the chafed skin mended itself, slowly, ever so slowly …

“Loki,” he whispered. “I think I’ve solved it. The prophecy. Wake up, please? I just…”

His voice broke. But he didn’t let go of Loki’s hand.

 

#

 

Hel made him eat and drink at some point. But she couldn’t make him get some sleep. It was quiet in the room, far too quiet. Realm of the dead, of the irrevocably lost …

So he started talking. He told Loki (and Hel) the story of Tony Stark. About MIT, about starting with Stark Industries, building weapons, going out partying with Rhodey, taking over … He talked about Afghanistan, too, about the Ten Rings and Obadiah, about Yinsen and the Mark I. About Iron Man and the Avengers. About that time Thor had destroyed the microwave and Barton had made fun of him for weeks, and of course how could he forget that one time when —

Loki opened his eyes.

Tony stopped mid-sentence. They looked at each other for a moment there, and Loki offered a weak smile.

Tony’s throat was dry. “Oh thank fuck,” he managed.

“Father,” Hel said.

“What …” Loki tried to clear his throat. A coughing fit wrecked his body and Tony couldn’t breathe, please, Loki had to be okay, he _had_ to be …

Hel instilled some water into him.

“What happened?” he tried again.

She told him, which was just as well, because Tony couldn’t face doing anything other than holding on to Loki’s hand with both of his. Real and artificial.

The golden bubble hadn’t dispersed yet. Hel ran a hand over the outside and it gave her some readings.

“I solved it,” Tony blurted out. “The prophecy. I think we’re going to win.”

There was flaming red skin around Loki’s mouth yet, where the thread had been. But he smiled anyway. “Of course we are.”

“The poison is gone,” Hel said. “Your strength is returning, too. I just don’t know about the lips. They might scar.”

Loki gave a hoarse laugh. “Fitting, no?”

He looked at Tony who, at last, found it in himself to return the smile.

 

#

 

Loki, maybe understandably, wanted a bath. Hel protested that he should spend some more hours healing, but he waved her concerns away and sat up, albeit slowly.

So it fell to Tony to support him over to the bathroom and help him wash.

It hurt. Seeing Loki like this, too feeble to stand upright on his own, and like he’d lost a couple of pounds’ worth of weight and all that in what, half a day? Maybe time worked differently down there, too. Maybe the mythological narrative had intervened somehow. Either way, he wasn’t going to ask.

At least Hel’s dislike of Tony didn’t extend to making him sleep in another room. In the low lights, he could just about discern the bed, and helped Loki over there.

Loki curled in on himself beneath the sheets, a vulnerable gesture that made Tony’s heart ache.

“I will be fine tomorrow,” he croaked.

“Liar,” Tony said, fondly.

He sat down on the bed as well. Sleep. Yes. Sleep might be a good idea. Now that Loki was sort of okay and sort of talking and definitely next to him. Oh, but Tony longed to touch him. Any assistance while bathing had been perfunctory, practical, but what Tony wanted to give him was _comfort_. He wasn’t sure he should, though. Or could.

“Tony?” came a rasping voice from the other side of the bed, half a world away.

“Yeah?” he replied, heart in his throat.

“Tell me … about the prophecy.”

So Tony did. He sat there, on the bed, and talked about texts and what gave them meaning and how they would create the Midgard Serpent themselves. “Sound ok to you?”

“And people think me insane …” Loki laughed. “Yes, very much so. You brilliant mortal, you.”

Mortal. The dark energy. Tony swallowed. He’d forgotten all about that in the rescue mission. Now was probably not the time to bring it up and …

“Tony?”

“Yeah. Right here. I’m not going anywhere.” _Not now and not ever again_ , he thought. Oh.

“I can’t … My senses, they’re still not …”

Not working properly.

“I’m right here,” Tony repeated. He lay down as well and shuffled closer. “Give me your hand?” Loki reached out blindly, and Tony cradled the hand in both of his.

Finally, Loki began to relax.

 

#

 

Something tugged at his hand. Tony blinked up into the darkness. There was a hand in his, and it was … trembling.

“Loki?”

“I’m fine,” came the croaked answer from across the bed. Like hell. “I have survived worse.” Probably. The fall from the Bifröst, for one. Which meant Thanos had found him in worse state than this. Nice thought, this.

“Don’t suppose there’s an Idunn whose apples we could steal?” Tony asked.

A muffled laugh. “The apples of immortality? Well, that would be convenient. There are golden apples on Asgard, yes. They do not, however, have any magical properties such as this. Merely another rumor, thought up by other realms envious of the Asgardians’ longevity.”

“Shame.”

“Would you wish for eternal life?”

Uhm … Not the direction Tony had envisaged. _How much longer do you have_ , Hel’s voice echoed in his mind. _Five years, ten at most …_ “I don’t know. ‘Eternal’ sounds pretty daunting. But I sure don’t want to die any time soon. And anyway, it’s all hypothetical, right?”

Loki’s fingers brushed the artificial hand. Tony sucked in a breath. He’d felt that. He’d felt the sensation. That shouldn’t be happening.

“I cannot make you immortal,” Loki said. “But with this technology of yours, who could tell? Everything has turned upside down. I have bargained away so much of my life’s energy … And yet I seem incapable of dying. I just cannot tell, anymore.”

Tony’s mind whirled. Behind the rather unsettling notion of prolonging his life until whenever by going cyborg on the world, which, uhm, no, not really, there was this pretty disturbing other point. _Life’s energy_ …

“Yeah, about that …” he ventured. Ah, shit. There was no good way of saying this, was there? At least, in the dark, he didn’t have to watch Loki’s reaction. “Hel, she wasn’t very happy to see me when I arrived here. Now, that’s not a problem as such, I get disliked a lot, and with reason, so that’s cool. But the reason she gave me was something pretty important. Something I didn’t know. About me. And you. When I … When I almost died from that frisbee thing of Fenrir’s hacking off my hand …”

Loki’s fingers tensed around his. “Yes …?” he asked, voice dripping with apprehension.

“Hel said I should have died. And that you saved me. With black magic. And the thing you pay with when using that, it’s … life energy. Seriously, Loki … why?”

Which was the real issue here. _Why would you do that? For me?_

Loki cleared his throat. “I have called upon dark energy for less than that.”

“Less than _what_?” Tony blurted, before he could stop himself.

“Your life.” That caress, again. “Your help with ragnarök. Your brilliance. Your company. Just … _you_ , Tony. I _need_ you. That’s enough.”

His throat had gone dry. Just as well he couldn’t think of anything to reply anyway. The cyborg option suddenly didn’t seem so terrible anymore, if it meant spending eternity like this and … oh hells.

“Uhm. Thanks?” A low chuckle from Loki, but no, that hadn’t been good enough. “Seriously, though. Thank you. For saving my life.”

“Well. It seems you have returned the favor already.”

Oh. Right. The cell. But the prophecy said the confinement would only be temporary … It probably hadn’t felt like that, though.

“Yeah, well. I need you, too.” Ouch. This was really getting too emotional. So Tony added, “We’ve got the apocalypse to avert, after all.”

“Yes,” Loki said, somewhat lost in thought. “The apocalypse. You know, don’t you, what that word means, in the first instance? Revelation. So, what did they tell you? On Asgard?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. How you manipulated the prophecy for your own purposes. King Váli was quite good at it, mind. Made perfect sense, everything he said. Like you could’ve conjured up the Norns, and engineered the entire Týr business to keep me believing in it.”

“But you didn’t believe him?” The frown in that was audible.

“No.” Tony laughed. “No, that really wasn’t an option.”

“Why?”

Valid question, in itself, but seriously, after all this dark energy business and everything? Tony sighed. “I got tired of distrusting you a long time ago. I’m in this for the long haul now, for better or for worse. Has it never occurred to you that I’m pretty hard to get rid of?”

“No,” Loki said. “But that might be because I cannot envisage wanting to be rid of you.”

Oh. “Good. Because I don’t plan on leaving.”

“Good,” Loki agreed. And that was all there was to say.

 

#

 

Low lights filtered into the room. A man (Vanir, by the looks of him) came in with a tray of food. Loki ate with slow, deliberate movements, but he did look better than the day before. Which wasn’t saying much, but it was … something.

When his hands did start to tremble, Tony took the cup and held it to his lips. Loki glared. Yeah, he would be fine.

They resettled on the bed afterward. Tony leaned back against the headboard, with Loki resting his head against Tony’s thigh. Neither of them spoke. Tony’s fingers threaded into Loki’s tangled hair, trying to smooth out the mess.

Time passed.

A knock. “Yeah?” Tony called.

The door opened. Loki didn’t even attempt to move, so Tony didn’t, either.

Hel stood in the door frame, her silhouette outlined against the gray light of the corridor. “Stark,” she acknowledged with a nod. Tony returned it. “Father.”

“Hmm.”

She didn’t ask how he was. Of course she didn’t. “I did not wish to disturb you, but Thor is outside the gates and I can’t decide whether I should kill him or send him in.”

Loki closed his eyes. He exhaled, slowly. “Let him in.”

“As you wish.” The door closed behind Hel.

“Uhm,” Tony said.

“I will listen, to whatever it is he has to say. But I will not return to Asgard. Not ever again.”

“Do you want me to leave?” He didn’t know which answer he’d prefer though.

“No.” Loki opened his eyes and peered up. “Do continue your massage, please. I find it most soothing.”

Okay. So Tony did, while they waited, untangling the knots in Loki’s hair.

The door opened again and there stood the god of thunder. Without Mjölnir, for once. Tony could just picture the conversation between him and Hel. He would have chuckled, under different circumstances. Instead, he smoothed out another strand of black hair.

Thor stood rooted in the door, taking in the scene. It probably made for a good tableau.

“Loki,” he choked out. “Are you —”

“Well? No. Not particularly. What did you expect?”

“When Váli said you would be punished, I did not imagine …”

“And you did not think to ask.” The icy cruelty in Loki’s voice made even Tony shiver.

Thor looked away. “No. I did not. When I stood over Baldur’s corpse, and the evidence was presented, I did not —”

“Who is to say I did not kill Baldur?”

Alarmed, Thor looked up. And he appealed to another involved party. “Stark! What is the meaning of this? Do you believe this? That my — that Loki killed Baldur? Whose side are you on, now?”

“Hm. Good question. Tricky answer, I think. You can get Hel to show it to you, anyway. The Baldur thing, that is. The side thing is easy. I’m on Loki’s side. _At_ Loki’s side. Yep, that’s exactly where I am. And that’s how we will win. Against Thanos. _We_ will _win_.”

Loki shuddered against his thigh. “Tony …”

_I need you._

There were still spots of red, irritated skin around Loki’s mouth, so when Tony leaned down, he kissed the forehead. Loki hummed.

Thor was staring at them. No surprise there. Tony rolled his eyes. “There are no spells on me, remember?”

“Go,” Loki said. “Convince Váli to join forces with the other realms. We are going to create Jörmungand ourselves. A defense grid that encircles Midgard. And much to my chagrin, we do require Asgard’s strength to succeed.”

Thor nodded. “It shall be as you say. I will not doubt you again.”

That made Loki chuckle. “Best not make two unlikely promises. Keeping the first of them shall be enough.”

“And Midgard?” Thor asked.

“We’ll deal with the coordination from there,” Tony said. “If you talk to Steve at all, tell him to expect us tomorrow.”

“Very well. I shall see you there.”

He left. Tony resumed the untangling. Hardly any knots left, though. Loki, meanwhile, brought his fingers up to dab at his own mouth. He winced.

“Ouch. I’m afraid this might actually scar.”

Tony thought, _You’ll still be beautiful_. Oh, when had he fallen so in —

“Tomorrow sounds about right,” Loki continued. “I shall be recovered by then, I think.”

“Good,” Tony whispered.

The last knot came apart in his hands.

 

#

 

He couldn’t explain it, Tony realized, as he watched Loki and Hel argue about what they might or not might need to take to Midgard, and how far away Thanos’ forces could be now. He was just glad to see Loki standing upright.

But no. The fact remained that he couldn’t explain it. He would have to. Something he’d ignored all too easily in the panicked rush of wanting, _needing_ to get Loki out of this prison, and in his worry afterward. And yet. Thor had caught them in bed. Twice. He’d talked to Steve, before going to Asgard. Tony closed his eyes. _I have alerted Captain Rogers that you have been ‘compromised.’_ As in, you’ve been fucking Loki. No, definitely not something he fancied explaining. Not to Steve, not to Natasha, certainly not to Barton, oh shit, Barton would kill him and …

And he still couldn’t explain why. The first kiss at the ball might have been an accident, a trick, to distract the reporters. That night in the library, with a view of Asgard burning … That had been, what, desperation? The simple fact of the matter was, Tony had just … _wanted_ to kiss Loki, back then. And he’d continued to want ever since, hungered for it, for what that clever tongue could do to him, for the way Loki’s eyes slid shut sometimes, caught in desire, for those fingers, strong enough to kill him, and yet gentle, or demanding, and for feeling that lean body against his, close, closer, and almost never close enough, he just …

“Tony?” Loki stood in front of him, somewhat bemused. “We should leave. There’s not much time left.”

 

#

 

If he had felt apprehensive about returning home from another realm, that didn’t at all compare to how Tony felt stepping onto the gantry now.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Tony could see the door slide open. That tall, upright figure could only belong to Steve. He loitered in the doorway, clearly unsure whether to come closer.

“Looks like I got a bunch of angry and/or disappointed Avengers to talk to,” Tony said.

“Will my presence hinder this?”

“Nope. Also, you don’t get to teleport again, anywhere, until this is over. Come on.”

Loki gave him a thin smile. “Aye, sir.”

“Hi Steve,” Tony called out as they made their way towards the door. “We’re back.”

Steve gave Loki the side-eye to end all side-eyes, but he nodded and vacated the doorway. When they walked inside, they found the Avengers assembled, including Thor, staring at them with emotions varying from nothing at all (Natasha) to friendly-neutral (Bruce) to bemusement (Steve) to downright horror (Barton, of course).

“Look, erm …” Tony ran his artificial hand through his hair. “This is a bit awkward.”

Loki heaved a sigh. “By the Norns, people, I did not kill Baldur or otherwise betray the endeavor to stop ragnarök.”

“Yeah, no, he didn’t,” Tony said. “And we, I mean, I … we kind of solved the last bit of the prophecy. I think.”

No one spoke.

“What would the Avengers have me say?” Loki asked, exasperated.

_Everything is going to be alright …_

Still, no one would address the elephant in the room, but they needed to get this out of the way because Thanos, death himself, was coming to them and they were wondering about …

Before Tony could think of anything to do, Loki staggered. Too early to teleport, after all. If Loki was allowing his posture to waver in front of the Avengers, he had to be near comatose. Everyone was staring.

Never mind. Tony reached out and slung an arm around Loki’s waist to steady him. Loki closed his eyes. He was fighting the temptation to slump against Tony, to not have to support his own weight any longer, because he couldn’t. Shit.

“The sofa is ten steps to your right,” Tony whispered. “Come on, you idiot.”

Loki ended up leaning heavily on Tony after all, as they made their way across the room. The Avengers parted to make way. Tony didn’t look at any of them. In his mind, he saw Loki in that cell, writhing in pain and …

The sofa. Yes. He guided Loki onto it and sat down next to him. “Breathe …” He suppressed the reflex to add, _you’re going to be okay_.

Loki shuddered. Eyes still closed. Too mortified at this obvious display of weakness. Every lean muscle had tensed, just short of trembling.

Okay. Nope. Tony reached out and took Loki’s right fist in his and brushed his thumb across the white knuckles. Audience be damned.

At last, Loki opened his eyes again. Definitely mortified. With his free hand, Tony brushed a few errant strands of hair away. Loki leaned into the caress before he could stop himself. Definitely near comatose.

Tony kissed Loki’s temple. “I got this,” he said. A nod was the only reply.

Alright. Tony disentangled himself and finally turned to the Avengers again. Even Natasha looked stunned. Something to cross off the bucket list.

“So,” Tony said. “Yeah. To get the obvious out of the way. Yes, we’ve been fucking. For … some time. And it’s really none of your business. So, can we focus on this maniac that’s trying to obliterate our worlds, now?”

Steve cleared his throat. “What did you say about the last piece of the prophecy?”

So Tony explained his idea of the Midgard Serpent, and how they’d try to interpret the old Eddic poems to their advantage.

“That is what will save the world?” Steve frowned. “Philosophy?”

“Philology, actually,” Loki said. Everyone’s attention zeroed in on him. Tony’s, too. At least, he didn’t look as if he was about to keel over anymore.

“Yeah,” Tony supplied, “You know, close study of old texts what they mean. Specifically, what they mean to people at any given time. And right now, the Völuspá means to me that we will win.”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Bruce said.

“You got any better ideas?” Tony asked. “I wasn’t on board with this either, until these old words started to make sense, and in this world, right here and now.”

“Poetry is, after all, the ‘secret language’,” Loki supplied.

“But … philology, isn’t that Latin and all these languages no one needs anymore?” Barton chimed in. Natasha elbowed him. Didn’t she speak Latin?

“Yes, but it’s more than that,” Loki said. “Philology is the devotion to logos. And logos … Logos is _everything_. It can mean word, yes. Language. But also statement, intellect, reasoning and … meaning.”

“So you fancy that meaning, and that’s what makes it happen? I don’t buy it,” said Steve.

“But is that not what you humans do?” asked Loki. “All the time, no matter how desperate the situation, how bleak the outlook … you _believe_. And yes, that is exactly what makes things happen.”

“So if I believe you will drop dead right now,” Barton spat, “that will happen?”

Loki laughed. “No. But it might make you sleep better at night.”

“Alright,” Steve intervened. “So, what do we do?”

 

#

 

They redrew the defense grid. Circled it around Midgard.

And then, they waited.

And waited.

Until Hel appeared in the workshop and said, “Tomorrow.”

Tony drew a sharp breath.

Loki exhaled. The look on his face was one of relief.

Tomorrow. Finally.

 

#


	14. Chapter 14

Evening, now. The calm before the storm. Tony had always thought that to be a bad cliché, but right now, looking out across Manhattan in the fading summer lights, almost autumn really, that was exactly what he felt like.

Loki appeared in the reflection behind him and slung two arms around Tony’s waist. Hmm. Ever since Vanaheim, he’d really come to appreciate the gesture.

“Jarvis has conducted another two checks on the grid,” Loki whispered. “We’re ready for Thanos.”

“As ready as we’ll ever be, eh?” Tony sighed.

“Yes. The defense grid is solid. So that leaves us with one minor detail.”

Tony had to laugh. “Just one? Lucky us.”

“I cannot be seen to survive this battle.”

“What?” Tony turned around and stared at Loki in disbelief. No trace of a joke, or of anything really, on that face. “No, no, hang on a minute, you’re kidding me, right? It’s almost over, we’re almost there —”

“Almost _where_ , Tony?” Loki laughed. It sounded cruel. “What did you expect, after? Oh, perhaps I am supposed to take up residence in this Tower, yes? Help the Avengers, ‘suit up’ together with Agents Barton and Romanoff? Take a casual walk around Central Park? Attend some more charity galas? Or wait, do you wish for me to assume some permanent disguise, because Earth’s mightiest hero cannot be seen publicly with Loki Laufeyson? Or am I to be a dirty secret, squeezed into your busy schedule every now and then, while you perhaps maintain a string of affairs, or even a relationship on the side to keep the media off your back? Tell me, for I am very curious.”

“No, I …” Tony swallowed. Come to think of it, how _had_ he expected all this to work out when the most imminent threat had been handled? And here was the thing … He kind of hadn’t. Thought about it. Too preoccupied, what with the intergalactic crisis and all. Or maybe because deep down, he knew Loki was right. Tony couldn’t pass him off as his … whatever.

“But,” he tried again. No. Just … no. Tony reached out to hold on to Loki in any way he could. “Please,” he whispered. _Please don’t leave me_.

“You do of course realize that either or both of us could die in battle. And the Völuspá has me fated to die by the hands of Heimdall. He has been waiting for his opportunity for centuries, so who am I to deny him —”

“Shut up!”

The kiss was desperate, this couldn’t be the last time, it _couldn’t_. What more could the universe possibly want for sacrifice?

“Oh, Tony.” Loki sighed. “You infuriating … selfish … mortal.”

“I don’t care. It’s not like I had any aspirations to the happily-ever-after white picket fence scenario. I mean, seriously, I hate the suburbs. And I’ve never cared what the media say about me. So yeah, I know I’ve got this superhero life and Stark Industries and that’s not really compatible with you and what you do and what you’ve _done_ , but the thing is, Loki - The _thing_ is, I don’t care. Are you even _listening_ to me? I don’t need you to move in here or attend stupid galas with me, why you even think that mattered! But I want you in my life, alright? In whatever way, shape or form we can manage. I don’t know how it’ll work out, but it _will_. We’ll make it up as we go along. Isn’t that what we’ve always done?”

Loki … Loki smiled. “Are _you_ listening to _me_?”

Huh? Phrases and words fluttered through Tony’s mind. _I … cannot … be seen … to survive … this battle … cannot be …_ Oh.

“I _hate_ you,” he hissed. “That’s my _heart_ you just trampled over.”

Loki didn’t reply. There was sadness in those eyes, and desire, and …

“That’s alright, though,” Tony whispered. “You can do with my heart whatever you want. It’s yours.”

Loki sucked in a breath. “I …” He faltered. “I don’t know what to say.”

Somehow, Tony found it in his drained self to laugh. “First time for everything, eh.”

 

#

 

 _This was it, then_ , Tony thought as he landed next to the rest of the Avengers and Asgard’s finest on a desert stretch of Ohio. Ragnarök was upon them. No more traveling to different realms, no more puzzling over poetry. No more words. Well, they’d see about the last one. And hadn’t ragnarök been going on since Fenrir broke out of his prison? Or maybe even before that?

No matter now.

Forces were distributed strategically across Earth, all well away from civilization. Communications were up and running, as Steve was just checking.

Loki materialized next to Tony. A tinge of red was fading out of his eyes. “Byleist holds the Casket of Ancient Winter. Now, let us hope for the best.”

Jörmungand’s long range scanners picked up movement in the atmosphere. Tony swallowed. “Yeah.” To Jarvis, he said, “Commence the Ginnungagap Protocol.”

“Scanning, sir.”

Side by side, they stood and watched as the sky filled up with hostile forces. They had bargained right. Earth was Thanos’ first and foremost aim. _To court death …_ Alfheim’s and Earth’s fighters moved into position. Preliminary guns of Jörmungand took aim, leftovers from Tony’s heyday as weapons developer.

“Scanning 5% complete,” Jarvis said.

Directly above them appeared a large black spaceship that Tony’s database identified as Kree. Its main targeting system was calibrating.

Tony took a deep breath. The Kree mechanism was loading.

Thor responded by taking it out with lightening. The battle remained suspended, in time and maybe in space, while the Kree crashed.

 “Scanning 12% complete.”

The moment it hit the ground, all hell broke loose. Tony shot his repulsors at anything within his targeting range, mostly Kree springing from the spaceship, while Thor took on another with Clint and Natasha in a quinjet. From somewhere, other aliens appeared that Tony had never seen nor heard of. That had been one of the central problems, not knowing just whom Thanos had recruited for his conquest of death.

“Scanning 19% complete,” Jarvis noted.

“Do better!” Tony snapped as he dodged a laser beam from somewhere. The Kree in front of him raised his sword, ready to strike, but then a dagger buried itself in his throat. A flash of green and gold at the edge of Tony’s HUD, before Loki vanished again.

“Thanks,” he said, anyway. In all likelihood, Loki could hear him.

On his other side were Steve and Bucky Barnes. They made a great team, Tony had to acknowledge, as Steve took out three Kree with his shield under Bucky’s covering fire. Then his proximity alert blared and he had to take out another Kree himself, repulsor to the chest.

“Scanning 23% complete.”

Chaos reigned. Jörmungand’s outside scanners, filched off the Dark Elves and modified to transmit handy data back to Tony, kept him informed of the battle lines. They were doing a decent job drawing Thanos’ forces away from the inhabited cities. Alfheim took out any stray spaceships. Fire giants wrestled with red-skinned aliens in the Sahara desert. The majority of the Kree battalions had been lured to Antarctica by the frost giants. Dwarves picked off Chitauri fighters across Europe, where it was currently night. The Vanir were fighting … someone in the Eurasian steppe.

 _Keep them occupied_ , Tony thought, as he shot more Kree soldiers, _make them show their weaknesses, come on, we can’t destroy half of Earth’s nature to find out how to defeat these guys …_

“Scanning 38% complete.”

“Where is he, though?” Tony asked. “Where’s Thanos, the coward? Will he ever stop sending his henchmen and just turn up himself?”

“Let’s find out.” Loki had appeared out of nowhere. He swatted one more Kree aside with an ice spire. “Thor?”

He, too, appeared, Mjölnir at the ready. He crashed his hammer onto the floor and the resulting energy pulse took out all remaining Kree within a twenty feet radius. Neat. There’d be more in a moment, another ship already descending, but it had bought them a moment of rest.

Thor straightened up, reached into his pocket and produced some sort of high-energy gun, all in gold, of course, but at its base …

“Is that the tesseract?” Tony asked. It had the same blue color, but looked much smaller, like a … stone.

“It is the Space Gem,” Thor said. “While your serpent is determining how best to kill all those different soldiers, this we think is one of the few weapons that could harm the Mad Titan.”

“Scanning 42% complete,” Jarvis offered, as if on cue.

“ _Harm_ him. Charming.” Loki grimaced. But his eyes were fixed on the gem in a way Tony wasn’t sure he liked. “One task I leave to Asgard, and …” Half entranced, he reached for the gun. Thor frowned, but did not actually move away. That … should Loki really have his hands on that, considering what had happened the last time?

“Hey,” Tony said.

It was enough to make Loki flinch. His hand fell to his side. He cleared his throat, then turned to Tony. “Perhaps it would be best if you took possession of this.”

“Uh …”

Before anyone could take possession of anything, another Kree horde descended on them. Tony fired up his repulsors and went to work, but still, talk about being outnumbered … “Uhm, guys? A little help with the Kree invasion here?”

“Scanning 51% complete,” Jarvis offered, but that wasn’t much use at the moment.

Another ship appeared on top of the Kree vessel, though this one looked a bit more … Viking? Though it wasn’t made of wood. Tony had his HUD scan it, but that likewise came up empty.

But he knew the woman who vaulted over the ship’s rail in a flash of blue and red. She dispatched of several Kree soldiers with an ice spire as she made their way to the center of the attack.

“Hi, Hel,” he said.

She nodded at him, and at Loki, who gave her a grin. Thor was staring, but she ignored him. “Well then,” she said. “Shall we finish this?”

“By all means,” Loki replied.

Hel snapped her fingers and a wave of fighters embarked from the ship, a wild mix of Asgardians, frost giants and dwarves, who all but threw himself at the Kree.

“Cool,” Tony observed. “But that ship of yours … it’s not _actually_ made of dead men’s nails, is it?”

Hel gave him a look that said, _you’ll find out when I shove your face into it_.

Another Kree soldier spared Tony from having to say anything else.

“Scanning 63% complete.”

“Hello, again,” Loki said, to someone behind Tony.

He whirled around. Oh. So that … Thanos. A gigantic figure in black armor, seated on a hovering throne. That purple jaw could probably break granite, or something. The one infinity stone he had managed to locate glowed green in his right hand. Green. _Not your color, buddy._

“Magnificent!” His laughter rang out across the fighting. “Loki! You really think you’re doing anything other than giving me exactly what I want? You have even finally brought me the space gem. And why? Because your prophecy says so? I am beyond prophecies!”

“Scanning 71% complete.” In other words, _stall him_. Stalling death. Nothing Tony Stark was better at.

“Yeah, no,” Tony called out. “You, big guy, you think you are _death_ , and that is pretty much at the heart of the poem, so hell yes you’re in the prophecy.”

Thanos kept laughing. “Ah, humans. This metal suit of yours, is that in the prophecy as well?”

“No. I just used to _sell_ death, this being America and all that, but that’s neither here nor there. You know what really isn’t in the prophecy? The infamous Yawning Void.”

Ginnungagap, the void that existed before the Nine Realms, something that could restore the equilibrium … but, as Tony recalled, it wasn’t a proper name. At least, not in the Völuspá. Until now.

Thanos, predictably, didn’t care. He raised the Infinity Gauntlet and directed its beam towards Loki, who only just managed to vanish out of the way. He reappeared on Tony’s other side. Thor intervened, brandishing Mjölnir and subjecting Thanos’ throne to instant lightning.

“Scanning 88% complete. Sir, may I point out those Kree are coming awfully close?”

Thor withdrew the hammer and sprinted towards the onrushing blue mass. Lightning criss-crossed through the air. And Thanos, predictably enough, was still alive. He fired another of his beam, this time at Tony. Loki pushed him out of the way.

“Jarvis,” Tony gasped, as he clambered to his feet. “I need that protocol.”

“Scanning is at 95%. I am relaying messages to those forces in danger of being caught in the crossfire. One of them being Thor.”

Oh dear. Tony had it on his HUD, Thor amid a sea of Kree soldiers. Of course, in the prophecy, Jörmungand did kill him … “Hel,” he shouted. “Get Thor to retreat!”

When she frowned at him, Loki joined in. “Please.”

With a sigh, Hel disappeared.

“Scanning complete,” Jarvis noted. So the targeting system was locked onto every enemy fighter, and had determined which of the Nine Realms’ input would be best to bring each one down.

“About time, too! Loki? Is Thor out yet?”

Loki nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Attention everyone!” Tony shouted at all frequencies. “This is the Ginnungagap Protocol! Deploy!”

The sky exploded in bright light. Maybe it was red-hot fire, maybe it was crystalline ice, maybe it was both.

Tony blinked against the shrill light. He checked with Jörmungand’s central targeting system. Some enemy forces had survived, obviously, but not enough to trouble the combined strength of the Nine Realms. Jörmungand had worked. Well, of course it had worked, he had developed it after all, but … holy shit. That was one powerful weapon he’d created. At least it wasn’t sentient.

The sound of mad laughter startled him. Thanos. Of course the Mad Titan wasn’t so easily killed. Where had that tesseract gun ended up again?

“This is glorious!” Thanos shouted. “A greater feast for death I have never seen! Earth does keep its promises!”

Tony swallowed. “Yeah, and who can we thank for that? Oh, right, the alien overlord who brought his army here.”

“And who is now going to die himself,” Loki supplied.

Thanos started to laugh again. “What power could you possibly offer that would as much as scratch me?”

Hel reappeared on the scene. She was supporting Thor, who was bleeding, but alive. _Take that, prophecy_ , Tony thought.

“That would be me,” Hel said. Tony spotted a flash of gold in her hand. The gun.

Thanos’ laugh faded into a manic grin as he gave her a once-over. “And why is that? Because you fancy yourself the Queen of the Dead of the meager Nine Realms? I am Death himself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hel said. “Death is all around us. Death is _trivial_. Didn’t your infinity stone whisper to you what Niflheim really is?” She’d made Thanos frown, at least. “Realm of the Irrevocably _Lost_.” She aimed the gun in a fluid motion and shot Thanos. The ninth shot disintegrated him, and the throne for good measure.

Hel shrugged and handed the gun back to Thor, who was staring at her again. The infinity stone had gone dark, though.

“Father. Do you require anything else of me?”

“No.” Loki grinned at her. “You’re free to go. I shall visit you soon.”

“See that you do.” She turned to Tony. “Stark.” He gave her a thumbs-up, but before he could say of anything to say, she had already vanished.

So … _was_ this it, then? Tony had his HUD scan the slight smoke left over by Thanos. No sign of life at all.

He disengaged the faceplate and turned to Loki. “We did it. We _won_!”

“Yes, it appears that we did.” Loki gave him a radiant smile. Tony wanted to kiss him, right then and there.

A golden shadow descended on them. Heimdall. He drew his sword to fulfill his destiny.

Loki staggered. He looked down at the golden blade protruding from his chest. He looked up. “Ton—” He coughed up blood. The sword was redrawn. Loki summoned his remaining strength to bury a dagger in his attacker’s throat. Heimdall’s smirk turned into a bloody grimace.

“I —” Loki fell to his knees, and forwards into Tony’s arms.

It had to be a trick, please, a _trick_ , Loki had _said_ —

Through the haze, Tony could hear Thor screaming. He could feel hot blood running down the side of his face. He could see Heimdall collapse into a crumpled heap.

“Tony, I —” Loki’s hand clawed at the armor’s failing arc reactor.

“Yeah.” Tony caught the hand and clutched it there, above his heart. “I know. Me, too.”

Loki died with a smile on his lips.

 

#

 

There was a debriefing.

Well, Tony assumed there had been one, because there always was a debriefing, but he’d be damned if he remembered any of it.

He found himself, alone, with a tumbler of scotch in his hands, on the sofa of the living room. When he squinted against the failing lights, he could swear he almost saw Loki sitting there, laughing, probably at something Tony had said.

Bastard. He toasted the vision anyway. The vision disappeared. Tony was alone.

_I cannot be seen to survive this battle._

If he had got it wrong, if he’d misinterpreted this sentence, none of the rest was going to matter. Well, ok, they’d saved Earth, again, and all the other realms, and Tony _believed_ he had got this right, but … but … how was he supposed to even _know_?

“Sir. Thor is outside your door, seeking admittance.”

Tony closed his eyes. Loki was there, too, so he opened them again, downed the rest of his scotch and nodded.

A moment later, Thor entered. He wouldn’t meet Tony’s eyes as he shuffled over to the sofa and took a seat.

“Hey there, big guy,” Tony croaked. What had happened to his voice? Had he been crying? Screaming? He didn’t remember.

“Why?” Thor asked, without raising his eyes. “Why does he keep doing this.”

_I cannot be seen to survive._

Three times. That’s how often Thor had seen Loki die.

_I cannot be seen._

“Tell me he’s not dead!” Thor’s voice was pleading. Begging. “I never meant — I never imagined — the two of you, I mean — _tell me_ , Stark!”

Loki’s laugh echoed in his mind. Loki’s lips ghosted over his skin.

_I cannot._

“It’s not my story to tell,” Tony said. “Not from this point onward.”

Thor looked up. Despair was etched deep into his face and Tony would’ve pitied him, had he any sort of emotion left in him. “What does that mean?”

_I._

“The story. Thanos. Ragnarök. It’s everywhere, now. And … nowhere.” Tony blinked. _Oh_. “I got to go to sleep.”

“Stark, you cannot go looking for him! You will never return from—”

But Tony had already stumbled off towards his bedroom. He closed the door behind himself and threw every locking mechanism known to him, i.e. to mankind, onto it.

_Are you listening to me?_

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. Always.”

Tony staggered towards the bed. He couldn’t bear to look at it, at the rumpled sheets, just in case he was wrong. But it still smelled of Loki, too. Tony grabbed a pillow and breathed deeply before he could stop himself.

_Listen … words are important … names … words …_

“Loki,” he whispered.

 

#

 

Tony stood in front of Yggdrasil. Clothed in fresh, green leaves, the ash looked radiant. When he came closer, he saw the three Norns at work, scooping water from the well and pouring it into a golden bucket.

“Uhm. Hi.”

They paused. “You have done well,” said Urd.

“We owe you our thanks,” said Verdandi.

“Yeah, uhm, you’re welcome and all that, appreciate it, but that’s not really why I’m here.”

“You have defeated Thanos. You have beaten death,” said Urd.

She handed the bucket to Verdandi. Skuld looked into it and nodded.

“Tell us a story, Tony Stark,” Skuld said. “Tell us —”

“— about how you saved the Nine Realms,” Urd supplied.

“But you already know everything!”

“That may be,” Verdandi said. “But stories are the only thing that matters.”

“You know what matters to me?” Tony hissed. “Loki. Loki matters to me. You’ve got him somewhere, don’t you. That’s how he goes about faking his own death and making it look so … damn … believable …”

Before he knew it, Tony was sobbing. He couldn’t stop. He … he was talking, he realized. About the dream library, about a desert of ice and a sea of fire, about the Avengers, about Hel and a wolf and a serpent, about forges beneath the mountains of Nidavellir and taking a deserted spaceship for a spin above the wastelands of Svartalfheim, about the harsh beauty of Old Norse, the howling winds of Niflheim and the roaring pyre of Vanaheim, about a silvery council and a golden citadel. But most of all, about a man, a powerful sorcerer, a manipulative trickster, a ruthless murderer, and a real bastard at times, but he’d run out of words before he could manage to describe —

“There is one word,” Verdandi said.

“It has pervaded your story,” Urd said, “but you have never _named_ it.”

“Tell us,” Skuld said.

Tony’s throat was dry. He cleared it, carefully. _To name something is the first step to … to … shape …_

“Love.”

Verdandi pointed to a spot behind him. He whirled around, heart in his throat. He almost tripped over his own feet as he ran down the slope and fell into Loki’s arms and no, he wasn’t letting him go any time soon.

They were in the library, or maybe the Tower, shifting through the realms again, it didn’t matter where they were really, as long as Loki was _somewhere_ and the rest was …

 

#

 

Silence.

 

###

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it! Thanks to everyone who’s read this fic, proving that yes, it’s possible to write about how to save the world with philology, and especially everyone who left kudos and/or took the time to comment - you guys rock, thank you so much!!
> 
> Also, I’m currently working on a completely new fic that deals with Tony (and Loki, of course) post-AoU. It’ll be more comic-based and a lot darker, I’m afraid, but I hope it’ll be done soon. Watch this space! ;)


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